


Destiel High School AU (to be changed later)

by gamesintheimpala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bullying, Depression, Destiel - Relationship - Freeform, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Homophobic John, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Severe Bullying, Sexual Content, Threats of Violence, Verbal Abuse, mature content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:59:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamesintheimpala/pseuds/gamesintheimpala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak's life is not the best one by any means. Crowley King constantly bullies him, he's shunned by everyone in the entire school and the teachers don't seem to care.<br/>But one day, it all changes in an instant.<br/>What will happen as he finds out more about his savior? Who is this mystery hero that just stumbled into his life?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Novak

**Author's Note:**

> Spur of the moment. My first high school AU. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave criticism. I am completely open to it and I only want to improve.  
> I give you a challenge...If you stick with me, and give me advice on how to better my writing skills, I will be your best friend! :)  
> Well maybe that's not the best prize, but still, if you read this and see something, ANYTHING, wrong with it, don't be afraid to tell me. I won't hate you. Promise.

Castiel Novak walked to his new locker, trying to ignore the snide remarks coming from seemingly every direction as he started putting in the combination. He'd hoped this year would finally be the year they stopped. He opened his locker and let his messenger bag slip off his shoulder so he could get his books for first hour. _Sophomore year is going to be a difficult one; even more difficult than freshman year,_ Castiel thought. He unpacked his bag and hung it on the hook inside the locker, cringing as the door was slammed roughly into his retracting hand. He clutched his hand, not bothering to look around for his assailant. It could have been any one of the numerous jocks standing nearby. Or it could have been one of the preppy cheerleaders. Who knew? Castiel didn't really care anyway. He'd been bullied since third grade when his only friend, Meg Masters, had moved away and he had no one to defend him. He rubbed his hand a little longer before stooping down to pick up the notebooks he'd left on the floor and checking his new class schedule. He started walking toward the science hallway, setting his face into the stern look of concentration he'd developed in the hopes that people wouldn't bother him. It didn't work.

“Hey Novak!” Castiel cringed slightly, continuing his set pace. A strong hand slapped down on his shoulder and he was spun around roughly and pushed into a row of lockers, his grip tightening reflexively on his books. “I said _hey Novak_ ,” Crowley King, the biggest bully in the school and Castiel's main antagonizer said in a low voice.

“Crowley, please leave me alone...” Castiel begged, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Oh, but why would I do that?” he replied with a dark laugh.

“Come on,” Castiel tried to shrug Crowley's hand off of his shoulder, not making eye contact. “I haven't even done anything...”

“You're right,” he smirked and released his grip, stepping back slightly. “Go ahead. _Do something,_ ” his voice and expression suggested sarcasm, but Castiel couldn't quite grasp the concept of sarcasm, so he wasn't sure.

“Just leave me alone...” Castiel turned to try and get past him, only to be shoved harshly back against the lockers again. He grunted as the locked dug into his lower back and turned his head away as Crowley's face was mere inches from his.

“Where do you think you're going?” Crowley spat in his face. Castiel grimaced as his fowl breath filled his nostrils.

“I'm going to class...leave me alone...” he tried to sound confident, but his voice came out rather small. He doubled over in pain as a fist slammed into his stomach.

“Don't tell me what to do, Novak,” Crowley spun on his heel and joined the other jocks standing nearby and laughing.

Castiel watched from the ground as the halls cleared of everyone and the bell rang. He picked up his notebooks and stumbled to his feet, still trying to catch his breath as he got to science, only to find the door locked and the teacher glaring at him through the small window. The door was opened and he swallowed hard as the teacher stepped out.

“Now I know it's only the first day, but I will not tolerate tardiness this year. You know where this class is Mr. Novak. So, what kept you?”

Castiel glanced around him and noticed a few of Crowley's friends snickering inside the classroom and he grimaced. “N-nothing sir... It was my fault. It won't happen again.” He looked down at his shoes, hoping the teacher would just drop it.

“Okay. As long as it's just a one-time thing,” the teacher placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder and ushered him into the classroom.

Castiel took a set near the back of the room at an empty table. He knew if he'd chosen to sit at a table with another person at it, even if they didn't know him personally, they'd most likely move immediately. No one wanted to be associated with the school loser; the nerdy kid who everyone bullied. No one ever even talked to him without an insult on their lips. He didn't mind it though. The silence gave him time to think. The time that he could have spent with friends he spends doing homework and studying instead. He's got a 3.9 GPA and he really owes most of it to the constant bullying he's had to endure since he was eight.

Castiel didn't really pay attention in science. All it consisted of anyway was going over the class syllabus and rules for the semester. He took the time to mentally plan out a route to all of his classes in order to avoid Crowley and his cohorts as much as possible. He really hoped that he wouldn't have too many classes with the jocks, or the cheerleaders, or any of the other popular or athletic people in the school for that matter.

He was brought back to reality by the shrill sound of the bell that dismissed them from class. Castiel scooped up his untouched notebooks and made his way quickly toward the door before the jocks could catch up to him. He opted out of going to his locker since it was pointless and just went straight to English.

Cursing under his breath as he walked into the classroom, Castiel took a seat across the room from Crowley and Alastair: the two biggest ass holes in the school and also the stars of the football team. With those two against him, the rest of the school didn't even question their motives and just followed along with the bullying and hazing. Castiel laid his head atop his folded arms on his desk and prayed for the class to go by quickly. He wouldn't even try to get his schedule changed because no one would understand his reasoning in wanting to move.


	2. Band Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still open for critiques. Thank you for your opinion and input. It is all greatly appreciated.

He was saved by the shrill sound of the bell again right as he felt yet another spit ball hit the side of his head. He scooped up his books and made a beeline for the door. His efforts were in vain however, as Alistair slammed his books out of his hands upon meeting him at the door.

“Hey _Asstiel,_ ” Alistair said in a demeaning tone. Crowley laughed from behind him at the new nickname. “Where you off to in such a hurry?” an evil grin spread across his face.

“I'm just going to class...” Castiel said quietly as he picked up his notebooks from the floor. He didn't wait for an answer and hurried out the door and into the crowded hallway before either of his bullies could do or say anything more.

Out in the hallway, Castiel kept his head down, only glancing up when he arrived at the math room where his next class was. He was in advanced math, so he knew at least most of the jocks wouldn't be in it with him. He said a silent _thank you_ as he took a seat near the front of the room. He enjoyed math mainly because there weren't as many people in his class to torment him. Granted, there were some; like the soccer players and some of the volleyball players, any jocks that had decent grades. And they all bullied him. No one bullied him to the extent of the football players, however, but their words were hurtful nonetheless.

The teacher came in and shut the door to begin discussing the syllabus. Castiel hoped that the rest of his day would go by quickly and he could just go home and lock himself in his bedroom and draw or study. He knew it wouldn't be that easy however, because he never got away unscathed, even on the first day of school.

As the bell rang, Castiel checked his schedule and cursed when he saw that he had third lunch. He'd have to wait another hour. At least his fourth class was one he could stand: concert band.

When he arrived in the band room, Castiel immediately went into the side room where the lockers for the woodwind instruments were. He'd requested for his locker to be kept available for him and Mr. Morrison, the band director, had allowed it. Castiel went straight to his locker: the middle one at the end of the row closest to the percussion room. He put in the combination on the lock and opened it, smiling to himself when his folder was still there after the whole summer. He picked it up and wiped away a thin layer of dust that had accumulated despite the closed locker.

His peaceful thoughts were disrupted by the introduction of a few booming voices pouring in from the door closest to him. _Crap. Percussionists..._ He thought as he hurriedly put his folder and his clarinet case into the locker and slammed it shut. There was laughter from a few of the voices and suddenly the door flew open and three boys came in, the first two pushing and shoving each other.

“Come on, Winchester! I'll show you where the percussionists hang out,” Uriel, last year's percussion section leader said as he shoved past Castiel and went into the percussion storage room.

Castiel tried not to make eye contact as Zachariah followed Uriel in. He only glanced up when the third boy, presumably Winchester, stooped down to pick up Castiel's notebook that had fallen to the floor when Uriel had knocked into him.

“Hey, you okay? Sorry about them... they don't seem to care about anything much,” the boy said, handing Castiel his notebook with a friendly smile.

“They're Neanderthals...” Castiel said quietly, taking the notebook and avoiding eye contact still.

The boy's smile faltered but he didn't say anything in argument. “Well, hey, I'm Dean. I just moved here,” he said in a friendly tone, extending his hand for Castiel to shake it.

Castiel stared at Dean's hand for a moment before meeting his eye, “I'm Castiel...only you've probably already heard of me and you should probably just avoid talking to me if you want to maintain any sort of social circle...” At that he hurried away from Dean and into the main part of the band room.

Castiel hardly felt bad for abandoning the new boy with the other percussionists. After he got the full story on Castiel, he'd probably deny ever having said any sort of kind words to him and go along with the bullying or just plain ignore him for the rest of their years in school together. That's how it always happened. Castiel would meet a new student who hadn't interacted with many of the other students and once they mentioned meeting him to anyone else, the supposed friendship would die and the hazing would recommence. He was used to it.

He took his seat from last year: first chair clarinet, and opened his notebook to a blank page. He wouldn't have to pay attention in here at all so he just decided to draw instead as Mr. Morrison began discussing the rules of the band room.


	3. Crash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Critiques? Please? Pretty please? With cherries on top?

About halfway through the hour, the quiet murmur of the band room was interrupted by a loud crash from the back of the room. Castiel was brought out of his mind by the one of the crash symbols slamming into the ground. He looked up from his notebook and turned his attention toward the percussion section.

Standing in the middle of the section, red-faced and completely still, was Dean Winchester. Castiel had to bite back a smile at the utter fear and embarrassment on the boy's face. His green eyes and freckles were highlighted by the shade of crimson red his face had turned.

“S-sorry...” the boy stuttered before stooping down to pick up the cymbol. A few of the girls snickered from the flute section and went back to their conversations. Mr. Morrison just nodded and turned back to his computer.

Castiel smiled to himself as he turned to another blank page in his notebook. Seeing Dean's red face, green eyes, and freckles had inspired him and he really wanted to capture it. He'd noticed the boy's eyes the second his met Dean's, but he'd never say anything about them for fear of being ridiculed.

 

* * *

 

Dean felt like a complete idiot. Uriel and Zach had been goofing off and messing around with the crash cymbols and he'd just been going right along with them. But when Zach tossed one of them his way, Dean didn't know what to do. He froze as it hit the floor and his eyes snapped up to see the disapproving look on the director's face. “S-sorry...” he muttered as he picked up the instrument. Zach and Uriel had fled to the storage room right as the cymbol had crashed to the floor so he'd been left to take the blame. Thankfully, it seemed this director was a lot cooler than his old one, because he wasn't punished.

Dean noticed a few girls giggling at him as he replaced the cymbol on its stand and his blush deepened. Only when he noticed a smile on Castiel's face did he get really embarrassed, however. Uriel and Zach had told him about the kid. The weird one with no friends who always seemed to be in his own little world. Dean thought to himself, _if the weird ones start making fun of me, what then?_ He watched as Castiel turned to a blank page in his notebook immediately after the whole incident and wondered what he was up to.

He'd never admit, but the whole geeky, blue-eyed, sex-hair thing was pretty cute. And the fact that this kid didn't even seem to care that he had no friends left Dean wanting to know more about him. Who was Castiel? What went on behind that blank, concentrating stare? Dean couldn't wait to find out.

Instead of retreating to the percussion room with Uriel and Zach, Dean went through the side room and to the front row where Castiel was seated. “Hey Cas. Sorry about earlier, got distracted and pulled into the back room.” He took the empty seat next to Castiel and stuck out his hand for a handshake. “Didn't get to properly introduce myself earlier either. Dean Winchester.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel flinched at the sudden invasion of personal space, staring at Dean's hand a moment before meeting his eye. “I'm...Castiel Novak...” he didn't shake Dean's hand, his grip tightening on his pencil and notebook instead. He was sure Dean had been sent over to torment him and he didn't want to give him any sort of leverage.

 

* * *

 

Dean looked at him confusedly for a moment before retracting his hand. “So whatcha drawing?” He craned his neck slightly to see Castiel's paper and blushed when he realized that it looked like he'd been drawing Dean.

 

* * *

 

Castiel covered the paper with his hand quickly, praying Dean hadn't seen it. “N-nothing..!” He studied Dean's face a moment and was suddenly aware of more than just Dean's eyes staring back at him. Almost everyone in the entire band room was watching them. He didn't need this kind of attention. “I-I told you earlier...if you want to maintain any sort of social circle, you shouldn't talk to me...” he looked back down to his notebook but didn't make another move.

Dean noticed the stares but brushed them off. He looked at Castiel confusedly, “What do you mean? People don't even talk to you? I mean I heard you didn't have friends, but that doesn't mean no one talks to you. Right?”

What was this guy's deal? He locked eyes with Dean. “No. No one ever talks to me without an insult or some sort of derogatory remark,” Castiel snapped, slamming his notebook shut. “Now would you please... just leave me alone..?” His voice ended in a whisper and his eyes trailed down to his hands. He waited for a snide comment or an insult to be thrown his way, but...

“Oh...sorry. I'm sorry for bothering you then...” Dean said quietly. He hadn't meant to offend the guy. He got up and went back into the side room and back toward the percussion room.


	4. Is This Seat Taken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank those of you who are leaving notes and everyone who has stuck with this.  
> I checked the hits when I went to bed last night and again when I got up this morning and it had gained 20 hits.  
> I was freaking happy so thank you guys so much.  
> And I am still 100% open to any advice you may have for me to better my writing.

Castiel kept his eyes glued to his notebook until everyone started talking amongst themselves again. What had Dean been getting at? Why had he come over to talk to him if not to torment him? Castiel went back to his drawing. He hoped Dean hadn't noticed that it was him. It was just a rough sketch, but it would be kind of hard to think it'd be anything else. Castiel continued shading the picture until the bell rang. He closed his notebook and made his way out into the hallway, praying that the football players didn't have the same lunch as him.

 

* * *

 

Yet again, his prayers were in vain. There were Crowley and Alastair, along with about seven other football players, all decked out in their Letterman jackets and everything. Castiel watched as they walked to the front of the line and shoved some freshmen back before stepping in front of the younger students.

“Hey, Winchester! Get up here, man!” Alastair shouted in what Castiel thought was his direction. He turned in time to see Dean walk past him and get in line with the football players. They all greeted him and laughed, asking him how he liked the school.

Castiel wondered how the jocks even knew Dean until he heard one of them ask if he was ready for the season to start.

“Well, yea... I-I guess I am,” Dean chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, returning a light shove from Crowley.

Dean was on the football team? What was he doing talking to Castiel? Better yet, what was he doing in band class? No other jocks were in the band. They bullied band students. Castiel brushed it off as ignorance and took a seat at an empty table, waiting for the line to go down.

 

* * *

 

Dean went through the line with his teammates with a smile plastered on his face. He only played football because its what his father wanted, but he couldn't tell these guys. This school's whole foundation was football. If there was even one guy on the team that said he'd rather be playing music, or doing some other sort of art instead of playing the game, he'd be shunned.

He got his tray and followed Alastair, the running back that had taken him under his wing so to speak, toward a table. Halfway across the cafeteria, Dean spotted Castiel sitting alone at an empty table. He looked like he was doodling something in his notebook again. “Uh, hey guys, I'll see you later...” He knew it'd make a huge scene for him to go and sit with the guy, but he couldn't help himself. It was either sitting with Castiel and having lunch with him or staring at him from across the lunchroom and having his teammates question him about it later.

He veered off toward Castiel's table, ignoring the protests from seemingly every person he'd previously been standing with.

“Hey is this seat taken?” Dean asked as nonchalantly as he could, putting on a genuine smile. Castiel's eyes snapped up and Dean noticed just how blue they were. The kid looked like he was anticipating something but Dean couldn't tell what.

“Um..n-no. You can take the chair. No one is sitting there,” Castiel looked back down to his drawing. Dean hesitated before sitting down across from him.

“What are you drawing now?” Dean picked up a french fry from his tray and popped it into his mouth, craning his neck to see Castiel's paper.

“What do you want?” Castiel said in a low voice. He closed his notebook so Dean couldn't see the paper and looked up at him, not meeting his eye.

Dean swallowed and looked at him with a mock hurt expression, “Ouch...Dude. I'm just trying to be nice...” He picked up another fry and ate it without looking away from him.

Castiel looked at him like he was crazy. “No one is ever nice to me without a reason... You're on the football team, right?”

“Uh, yea...why?”

“Crowley sent you over here, didn't he?” Castiel looked down at his hands.

“Why would Crowley have sent me over here? I came over here because I wanted to,” Dean said nonchalantly, picking up his burger and taking a bite. He could feel about a hundred eyes on them, but he tried not to pay attention to them. “Are you gonna get some lunch or what?”

Castiel looked back up to Dean. “Why do you keep talking to me? They're going to give you hell for it...”

“I could care less what everyone else thinks of me,” Dean shrugged and set his burger down on his tray. “So you gonna go get some food?”

“I...yea. I usually wait for the line to go away so I don't have to deal with too many people...” Castiel scooped up his notebooks and stood. He nearly stumbled back when Dean stood with him. “W-what are you doing?”

“Thought I'd go and wait in line with you,” Dean said as if it was something he'd been doing for years. He ignored the stares from almost everyone in the cafeteria as he and Castiel went up to the line, Castiel hugging his notebook to his chest as if his life depended on it.


	5. Becoming a Victim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you leaving comments and sticking with this fic.  
> After this weekend updates will be a bit slower because the snow is beginning to melt, so I have to go back to school and socialize with real people...yay...
> 
> I'm still open to any advice anyone might have for me to make my writing better. :)

When they got back to the table after standing in silence for five minutes, Dean still felt tons of eyes boring into his back as he sat across from Castiel. He picked up his burger and took a bite without even thinking and immediately pulled back when laughter erupted from the jocks' table. He looked back at them and took the top bun off of his burger as Castiel gave him a pitying look.

Dean gagged when he realized when they had done to his food, immediately spitting it out and pushing his tray away.

“I told you what would happen if you talked to me...” Castiel said quietly, looking down at his food. “Here, you can have mine...” He pushed his tray toward Dean.

“Nah. Its okay...” Dean took a drink of his milk and gagged again. “Holy shit!” he coughed and sputtered, spitting his milk out on his tray. “What the hell?!”

“You shouldn't leave your food where anyone could get to it, Winchester!” Crowley laughed from a few tables over.

“Jackass!” Dean said loud enough for everyone to hear. “What the hell is your problem?”

Castiel swallowed, looking obviously nervous and Dean felt bad. He turned toward Castiel, trying to ignore his idiot teammates and striking up a conversation. “Um...So, Castiel. W-where you from?” He swallowed and pushed his tray further away.

Castiel looked up at him and furrowed his brow, “I'm from here...”

Dean almost laughed at the confused seriousness in the boy's voice. “Okay... So you got any brothers or sisters?”

“I have three brothers and one sister. Do you have siblings?” Castiel said shyly.

Good. The guy was finally beginning to loosen up. Dean smiled, “big family, huh? I've only got Sammy, he's my little brother. He goes here too, in the junior high school.” He leaned on his elbows on the table. “You should eat your food before lunch ends,” he chuckled and pushed Castiel's tray back to him.

A smile flickered across Castiel's face for a fraction of a second and then it was gone. Dean watched as he picked up a fry and ate it cautiously. He smiled to himself and made a mental note to get Cas to smile more. It suited him. “I feel strange eating in front of you when you don't have any food...” Castiel said quietly.

“Its no big deal, Cas. Just eat,” Dean sat back in his chair with a genuine smile on his lips.

For the first time, Castiel looked him in the eye with wonder in his own. “Why don't we share..? I mean... I don't usually eat the burgers here anyway... They're shit,” he chuckled lightly and Dean beamed at the sound of it.

Dean grinned and picked up the burger, “eh, I've had worse.” He took a big bite, still smiling at Cas.

 

* * *

 

A peaceful silence fell over them as Dean ate Castiel's burger and Castiel ate his fries. About ten minutes before the lunch period ended Dean finished off the last of his food and looked up at Castiel, who had begun doodling in his notebook again.

Without saying anything, Dean leaned forward to see the paper. He felt a blush creeping up his face when he saw the detailed drawing of his smiling face. “W-wow...you're really good,” he said softly, fighting the urge to pull the paper toward himself so he could admire it.

Castiel covered his paper reflexively and blushed, the cutest damn thing Dean thought he'd ever seen. “Th-thanks...its just a little sketch...” he said quietly.

“Looks like more than a sketch to me. You're really good,” Dean smiled at Cas then looked back down to the drawing still covered by Castiel's hand. “Can I..see it?”

Castiel hesitated before he nodded, moving his hand and scooting the paper toward Dean slightly.

Dean carefully pulled the drawing closer and picked it up, admiring the line work. A smile played at his lips as he took in the detail Castiel had put into the 'sketch' and he glanced up to see Castiel studying his reaction. “Its really good... Where'd you learn to do that?”

Castiel shrugged, “having no friends gives me a lot of free time...”


	6. Discovering New Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! I loved writing this chapter and I have wonderful plans for the next few. :)

When the bell rang, Dean picked up his tray and stood, waiting for Castiel and walking to the drop off window with him. “So what class do you have next?”

“Um...I think I have US History...” Castiel said, looking down as they passed the jocks' table.

Dean brushed off the glares from his teammates and smiled, “me too!”

Castiel looked up at him, meeting Dean's eye again, which almost gave Dean chills. A small smile flickered across Castiel's lips and then it was gone as they got to the window. “Thank you...” Castiel said quietly as he handed his tray to the lunch lady.

Dean handed his tray through the window, “thanks. Hey wait up!” He jogged to catch up to Castiel who had hurried down the hall. “What's the hurry, Cas?” He nudged him cheerfully and pulled back when he noticed Castiel flinch. “Hey..you okay?”

“Y-yea, sorry...” Castiel's eyes were squeezed shut.

Dean moved to put his hand on Cas's shoulder, but changed his mind, not wanting to scare the guy again. “Hey, I'm really sorry... I-I didn't meant to-”

“It's fine, Dean...” Castiel cut him off, taking a deep breath and looking up at Dean. “I'll um...show you where the history room is.” he offered.

“Okay... Y-you sure?” Dean felt genuinely bad for scaring him.

“Yea, but first I need to go to the nurse's office.” Castiel spun around as if nothing happened and headed toward a door at the top corner of the hallway.

“What's the matter? Are you sure you're okay?” Dean asked, following him closely.

“Yes. I have asthma and I have to go and get my inhaler,” Castiel said easily. It seemed as though he was warming up to Dean. Dean wondered how many people at school actually knew that Cas had asthma, or if any of them knew anything about him at all.

 

* * *

 

They went to the nurse quickly and then Castiel showed Dean to history. More rules and things they would be doing for the semester for another hour. Dean hated the first day of school so much. Why did they have to go over pretty much the same exact rules seven or eight times? It was all pointless in his mind.

Castiel was still closed off, still afraid that Dean would abandon him the next day, but he did talk a little more by the end of the day. They shared the last half of their schedule from band class, which was a relief to Dean so he wouldn't have to waste too much time with his jerk teammates.

Dean didn't get to talk to Castiel like he wanted to because Cas was so shy. He wanted to get to know him, in time, he would. He wanted to find more ways to make him smile because it didn't look like he ever did and a smile looked good on him; it highlighted his features.

When the final bell rang to dismiss them from school, Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and stood up. “Hey Cas, where's your locker?” he asked, trying to seem nonchalant as they walked out into the crowded hallway.

Castiel looked up at him in shock, “it's right down the hall.” His voice seemed hesitant and Dean hoped he hadn't creeped the guy out.

“Hey cool, mine is too. Its uh, 362 I think.”

“Mine is 365,” Castiel said, watching down the hallway.

Dean noticed throughout the day how Cas was always either looking down at the floor or keeping a cautious watch on his surroundings. It made him feel bad at how paranoid Castiel seemed, though he hid it exceptionally well.

“So uh, I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?” he asked carefully, trying not to get his hopes up. He knew Castiel didn't have any friends, but maybe that was by choice, or maybe he didn't even like Dean.

“Sure!” Castiel said a little quickly. “I-I mean, if you want to...” he added quickly.

“Of course I do. Well, isn't that your locker?” Dean nodded toward a row of lockers. He hadn't meant to, but he ended up waiting for Cas at his locker and walking him out to the buses.

“Dude is this your bus?” Dean asked when Castiel stopped at one of the first buses.

“Y-yes...” Castiel said uncertainly, taken aback by Dean's excitement.

“This is my bus too. According to the office at least,” Dean dug a small piece of paper out of his pocket. He'd jotted down the bus number earlier when he got to the office and asked them which was his. “My dad drove me and Sam to school this morning since we forgot to find out which bus it was.”

Castiel showed a small smile. He'd never had anyone to ride the bus with except his siblings and that was only because the bus driver just stuck them together. All of his siblings except Gabriel pretty much ignored him. “Are you riding the bus back home?” he asked, trying not to get his hopes up.

“Yea, my dad's at work til eight I think.” Dean smiled as they climbed onto the bus.


	7. Meeting the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but in the next few chapters, there might be a little angst...*cough cough*  
> But I did enjoy writing this chapter.

So it went for the next few weeks. They found out that they only live two blocks away from each other, so for the first time since third grade, Castiel had someone to talk to and somewhere to go besides home and school. Dean invited him over often. Castiel didn't see much of John Winchester, but he became very close with Dean's brother Sam. He had a lot in common with the youngest Winchester and he enjoyed the boy's company.

Castiel was still pretty closed off at school, but when they were alone, Dean noticed a lot of improvement. Castiel was more open about his home life within the first three weeks of their friendship and Dean found out that Cas was the fourth of five children. Gabriel was his closest and only younger sibling, but they weren't anything like how close Dean and Sam were. Their father left shortly after Gabriel was born, when Castiel was five, and their mother wasn't around much because she was always working.

The day Dean met Castiel's older brother was a day he wouldn't ever forget. Michael was seven years older than Castiel but he still lived at home while he attended college, as did Luc, who was five years older than Cas.

Castiel had shyly invited Dean over to study for a history test they had the following day and Dean had immediately agreed. When they got off the bus, Dean simply texted Sam saying if he wasn't home before their father, to let him know that he was at Cas's. The two of them walked the short distance to Castiel's house. When they arrived, no one else was there: Castiel informed Dean that Gabriel went to a friend's house and his sister, Anna, who was a senior at their school, had volleyball practice.

The home was nice, nicer than the Winchester house at least. Dean looked around and smiled to himself. This house really looked more homely than their simple, two-bedroom one-story. It had a mother's touch, something the numerous Winchester residences had lacked for years. “Its nice here,” Dean said as Castiel led him down the hallway.

Castiel shrugged, “its okay I guess...” He opened a door at the end of the hallway and walked in.

Dean's jaw almost dropped when he followed Cas in. It looked like a bedroom, a queen sized bed was against the left wall and there was a giant window on the far wall that overlooked a large, green back yard. There were various drawings pinned up on a bulletin board above a beautiful desk along the right wall. “Is this your room?” Dean asked incredulously.

Castiel dropped his bag next to the desk and went to the window, “yes, my mother must have drawn the curtains earlier.” He tugged the thick, blackout curtains closed and the room was pitched into near-darkness.

“Dude why don't you leave your curtains open? That view is awesome! And the natural light is great,” Dean flipped the light switch next to the door and set his bag next to Castiel's.

Castiel shrugged, “I just don't like looking out at a world that will never accept me.” He turned back to Dean, and tilted his head at the look on Dean's face.

“That's really depressing, man,” Dean said softly. He looked down at his shoes and sighed. He knew Castiel had it rough, what with all the jerks at school, and his father leaving his family, and his mother's absence, but Castiel never really seemed very fazed by all of it. He looked back up to meet Cas's blue eyes and stepped forward, placing both hands on the other boy's shoulders. “Listen, you shouldn't shut yourself up and away from the world just because of a few worthless jackasses. I mean, look at this!” Dean waved his hand over to the bulletin board. “You have amazing talent Cas! And if you shut out the world, no one else will ever get to know that. You're brilliant and the assholes at school shouldn't dictate how your whole life goes.” He paused when he finally turned back to Cas and prayed he hadn't just scared the shit out of him.

Castiel blinked a few times in genuine surprise as Dean spoke. When blue eyes met green again and a strangely comfortable silence filled the small amount of space between them, he froze.

“Say something,” Dean said quietly, unable to keep his voice from shaking slightly. He thought maybe he had scared Cas and blown the whole friendship, as short as it had been, and that's not something he thought he could handle. He was just about to turn and run when Castiel spoke up.

“Dean, that was...that was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Castiel said softly just as Dean turned away.

Dean's eyes snapped back up to Cas's when he felt a strong hand on his arm.

“Thank you,” Castiel swallowed hard when he saw Dean glance down at his hand and he immediately let it drop to his own side, looking down at his shoes.

Dean looked at him fondly, “its all true, y'know.” He offered a small smile and placed a careful hand on Castiel's shoulder. “You are really great-”

At that moment, Castiel's brother Michael decided to barge into his room, though Dean had no idea who he was at the time. “Castiel, who is this?” the man asked harshly as Dean spun around to face him.

Castiel cringed and stepped back from Dean, “this is Dean. H-he's my friend.” His voice was small and Dean couldn't help but wonder why.

“Since when do you have friends?” the man said, cruelty in his voice. “And what are the two of you doing in your bedroom?”

Dean turned back to Castiel slowly as Cas spoke. “We were going to study for a history test,” Cas looked down as he spoke.

“How many times have I told you to look at me when you speak to me?!” the man shouted, shoving past Dean and getting into Castiel's face.

“I'm sorry, Michael,” Castiel forced his eyes back up to his oldest brother's face.

“Dude chill out!” Dean stepped between them. “Calm down. You shouldn't be talking to him like that,” he kept his voice calm. He'd resolved many arguments involving his father simply by keeping his cool. Only when someone picked on Sammy did he lose it.

“And who are you to tell me how I should talk to my brother?!” Michael stepped forward, his chest pressing uncomfortably against Dean's, but Dean didn't back down.

He set his jaw and stood his ground, “you should treat him with a little respect. He doesn't deserve shit at home when he's already got school to deal with.”

“Oh don't tell me you believe all that 'bullying' shit he's been feeding us for years!” Michael said in a demeaning tone.

“As a matter of fact, I've witnessed it. So yea, I believe him because he's my friend.”

“Dean, its okay, j-just drop it,” Castiel said from behind him, tugging on his sleeve.

Dean shook Cas's hand away and kept his eyes locked with Michael's.

Michael smirked and stepped back, turning without another word and leaving the room.

Castiel let out a breath Dean didn't know his friend had been holding. “I'm sorry about that,” he murmured.

“Hey, don't be,” Dean laid his hand on Cas's shoulder and dipped his head so he could catch his eyes, which were directed at the floor. He smiled warmly when Castiel looked up at him. “Its no big deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. More to come!!!


	8. Halloween

As Halloween approached, Dean's spirits seemed to dampen and Castiel couldn't figure out why. They had become quite close over the few weeks they'd known each other and not as many people bullied Castiel when they found out he was friends with the older Winchester. Castiel continuously tried to cheer Dean up, but had little success. Dean wouldn't even tell him what the matter was.

As the holiday neared, Dean became worse and Castiel resorted to confiding in Sam. The two were working on a piece for their Halloween band concert in the side-room of the band room, (Sam played bass clarinet and Castiel was helping him) when Cas stopped playing and looked over at Sam. “Sam, have you noticed anything...strange, about Dean I mean?” he asked quietly.

Sam stopped playing and looked at Castiel. “What do you mean? Strange how?”

“He's been so..distant, I guess. Do you know why? He won't tell me. He keeps saying he's fine but I can tell he's not.”

Sam paused, looking down for a moment, seemingly considering his response. After a bout of silence, he spoke, “November second is the anniversary of our mother's death, and since its so close to Halloween, Dean's always hated it.”

Castiel blinked in shock. He'd known Dean and Sam's mother wasn't in their lives, but he didn't know she had died. He didn't want to press, so he didn't say anything, waiting for Sam to elaborate. When the younger boy didn't speak, Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder, something Dean had done to him numerous times. “I'm so sorry, Sam.”

Sam didn't look up, “it was a house fire. When I was a baby. Dean took it really hard.”

Castiel shook his head, “I had no idea.”

Sam's eyes snapped up to meet Cas's. “Don't tell him I told you,” he said urgently. “He doesn't like people to know because they always pity him. Or at least he thinks they do.”

“I won't tell him, Sam. Thank you for telling me, though.” Over the short time he'd known the Winchesters, Castiel had discovered that more often than not, John Winchester was away on "business." Dean said that he pretty much lived at the bars he frequented so Dean was always left to care for Sam, even when he was just a kid himself. Dean never made a big deal of it, however. He loved his little brother more than anything in the world and he would do anything for him.

 

* * *

 

Halloween was upon them and Castiel knew Dean most definitely wouldn't be leaving his house. John was on a binge that Dean told him would probably last the rest of the week and Sam and Gabriel were going to go trick-or-treating.

The Novaks walked over to the Winchester house so the younger boys could get ready. Castiel helped with their costumes and makeup while Dean sulked behind his locked bedroom door until they were ready to leave. He emerged and bit back a laugh when he saw his younger brother.

“What are you supposed to be, Sammy?” he grinned. Castiel was glad to see him in a better mood.

“I told you not to call me that, Dean!” Sam shoved Dean's hand away from him as his brother ruffled his hair. “I'm a werewolf!”

Dean chuckled, “aren't werewolves supposed to have fur?”

“If you read anything about the mythology of werewolves you'd know that's just a load of crap made up by the media,” Sam mumbled.

“All right, easy furball,” Dean laughed. “What are you supposed to be, Gabriel?”

“I'm an angel,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly.

“Come on, Gabe. Let's go! I mapped out a route so we hit the best houses!” Sam pushed his friend toward the door.

“Wait just a minute! Do you know the rules, Sammy?” Dean stepped straight into their path.

Sam rolled his eyes, “be back before midnight, no going into strangers houses, don't eat too much candy and always check it first.”

Gabriel cleared his throat and elbowed Sam in the ribs.

“Oh yea! Hey Cas, do you think your mom would be okay if I stayed at your house with Gabriel tonight?”

“I guess so, you might ask her, though, Gabriel. Dean, is that okay with you?”

“Yea, sure. But you guys have to follow the rules either way.”

At that, the boys hurried out the door and down the street. “Do you want to do anything tonight, Dean?” Cas asked quietly from behind him as the other boy watched their brothers go down the street.

Dean turned back to him, his solemn look returned to his face. “I dunno. I might just go and watch some TV. Will you make sure the porch light is off? I don't want a bunch of little kids at the door when we don't have any candy.” He went toward the living room but before he could get through, Castiel grabbed his arm gently.

“Dean,” he started softly. “Please talk to me.” He looked down and dropped his hand, afraid Dean would tell him to leave.

Dean sighed, seeing the hurt on Castiel's face. “I'm fine, Cas-”

“Dean we both know that's bullshit,” Castiel cut him off, his voice still soft.

Dean closed his eyes and moved around Cas, heading for his bedroom.

“Dean, don't do this,” by the time Castiel turned around Dean was already moving back down the hallway. Castiel watched as Dean threw himself down onto the couch and covered his face with his arm.

“You wanna know why I've been like this lately?” He sat up straight and slapped a photograph down on the coffee table.

Cautiously, Castiel approached the couch and sat down on the opposite end from Dean. He reached out for the photo carefully and lifted it from the table, scanning Dean's face for approval.

The photograph looked old, faded with worn edges. It was of a blonde-haired woman. She was smiling and holding a small bundle, Castiel looked closer and realized it was a baby. The woman looked exhausted, but she also looked like she was filled with pride and content.

“That's my mom,” Dean said, his voice thick with tears Castiel hadn't noticed were falling as he studied the photo. “That was the day I was born.”

“She's beautiful,” Castiel murmured, straightening a creased corner of the photograph.

“Yea, she was,” Dean croaked. “Bet you're wondering where my dad is.”

Castiel hadn't thought about it, but Dean was right. There was no sign of John in the photo.

“He'd been on a binge when she went into labor. He didn't get there until the next day.” Dean scrubbed his hands down his face and took a deep breath.

Castiel placed a hand on Dean's knee, “I'm sorry, Dean.” He squeezed gently and looked up at Dean's face. He was surprised to see Dean's green eyes staring intently at him.

“Thanks for being here, Cas,” Dean said quietly.

“Where else would I be?” Castiel offered a small smile. His eyes returned to the photograph, “What happened to her?” The words were out before he could stop them.

Dean froze for a moment, a darkness clouding his eyes. The once bright green orbs were now dull and unreadable. “She... She died,” he choked. “When I was four.”

Castiel fought the urge to pull Dean into his arms and never let him go. He waited quietly for his friend to finish.

“I remember...she tucked me in one night and I was almost asleep when I heard it-” Dean's voice cracked and he looked down at his hands.

Castiel placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed, “you don't have to say it Dean. I'm sorry I asked.”

A sob racked through Dean's body and he buried his face in his hands. “Cas I couldn't save her. I tried but I could only get Sammy out.”

“Dean you were just a child. Its not your fault,” he allowed Dean to lean against him, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Castiel replaced the photograph on the coffee table, “hey, it was not your fault Dean.” He lifted Dean's face so he could look at him. “Listen to me. You couldn't do anything more than you did.”

Dean's body shook with another sob and he clung to Cas's shirt.

 

* * *

 

Castiel held his friend while Dean cried. Dean eventually fell asleep, Cas's arms still wrapped around him. Castiel couldn't help but feel guilty about asking Dean about his mother. He knew better than to bring up painful memories like that.

Around eleven o'clock, Castiel got up from the couch and covered Dean up with a blanket. He made his way to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. He was just putting on his jacket and about to leave when he heard a groan from the living room. Castiel stepped into the room and saw Dean squinting at him from the couch. “Hey, I was just about to go home.”

“Don't go, Cas,” Dean pleaded, pushing himself into a seated position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...


	9. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets more into football, and disaster hits.

During the month of November, Dean threw himself into football. Castiel knew it was probably due to his childhood trauma. Dean had told him numerous times how much he loathed playing football, but its what his father wanted.

Castiel would go to the games. He would watch Dean on the field. Sometimes the coach would put him as running back with Alastair as his block and sometimes Dean would block for Alastair. Though Dean couldn't stand the other boy, Castiel thought they made an admittedly good pair out there.

Countless times, Castiel found himself standing with the rest of the crowd, cheering madly when Dean made a hard tackle or an awe-inspiring touchdown. He was always so proud of his friend. He knew Dean loved that feeling of success, though Dean would deny it constantly.

Castiel often found Dean studying the new plays the coach had given him as opposed to doing other homework or working on the music they were supposed to be playing for band. He would always just smile to himself when he saw the concentration on Dean's face.

Deep down, Castiel knew Dean was falling in love with the sport and he was genuinely afraid of losing his companionship if Dean suddenly decided he'd rather hang out with his teammates instead of the loser they all bullied.

Most of the football players eased up on Castiel within the first few times that Dean got involved, stepping between Castiel and his assailants and getting in the larger boys' faces. He would speak in a hushed growl and they would quietly sulk away. Castiel never knew what Dean said to the boys, but most of them stopped messing with him after their confrontations with Dean.

Crowley and Alastair were a different story altogether. On the field, it seemed like nothing was going on. They played the game and that was it. No other interaction. But off the field and at school, they were relentless. Dean had become their victim as well as Castiel. They made constant threats to the both of them, teammate or no. Castiel urged Dean to tell their coach, but he refused. Said that's not how a Winchester handles things.

 

* * *

 

One day in particular will always stand out in Castiel's mind.

Dean had invited him over to the Winchester house. His father was away and left Dean in charge of his beloved 1967 Chevy Impala. Dean had recently obtained his driver's license and he figured John must have been drunk off his ass when he handed Dean his keys and told him to call for a cab.

Dean had noticed the car had been neglected for a few months and decided to work on it a bit. He'd promised Castiel he would teach him how to change the oil after giving the car a much needed tune-up.

Castiel had happily accepted the invitation and assured Dean he could easily walk to his house. He'd grabbed his book bag and filled it with essentials, from reading material, to homework. Just before he walked out the door, he grabbed his inhaler for safe measure and stuffed it into the front pocket of his bag before slinging it over his shoulder and heading out.

Dean lived just a short two blocks away so Castiel didn't see a problem with walking, despite the late-November air. It had yet to snow but that didn't keep the frost from clinging to every surface available and making the world seem dark and depressing.

Castiel was just rounding the corner to Dean's street when he heard something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He could see the front of the Impala, up on a jack, in Dean's driveway just down the road, the fourth house from the end. Could he make it before Crowley got to him?

He quickened his pace and another bone-chilling shout filled the air. Alastair was with Crowley, both hissing Castiel's name menacingly. As he neared Dean's house, he heard 'Eye of the Tiger' by Survivor blaring from the Impala's stereo. Chills went up his spine as he heard heavy footfalls behind him and he was suddenly running, praying Dean would see him. He caught sight of Dean's booted foot poking out from under the car and prayed he would get there in time.

Just as he was about to cut across the road, all thought of checking for cars abandoned, Castiel felt an enormous force against his legs and he was sent crashing to the hard concrete of the sidewalk. His head hit with a horrid cracking sound and his hands and knees scraped harshly on the rough surface. Cloth ripped. Blood seeped through the tattered fabric and down his face. His bag was ripped from his shoulders and he heard it being ripped open, the contents spilling onto the pavement of the road.

He couldn't see. Blood was in his eyes. Couldn't breathe. A huge weight rested on his back. Then he was flipped over onto his back and the weight returned on his chest. He blinked away the blood and saw Alastair above him, a nasty smirk on his face. Crowley stood nearby, kicking at the spilled contents of Castiel's book bag.

Just before Alastair's ready fist connected with is face, the weight was suddenly gone from his chest in a flash. But he still couldn't breathe. _Inhaler_ , he thought, hands scrabbling aimlessly against the concrete, searching vain as he gasped.

 

* * *

 

Dean had just finished up his tuneup of his father's car and was going to go and get some sodas for when Cas arrived. He'd pushed himself out from under the car and grabbed the rag from the toolbox next to him. His flannel shirt was covered in grease but he didn't care. He wiped his hands on the rag, singing along, albeit off key, to the stereo when he happened to glance toward the street.

What he saw enraged him and he was on his feet in an instant, but not before grabbing something from the ground beside him first. There, not two houses down from his own, across the street, were Crowley and Alastair. And what Dean saw them doing made his stomch twist in knots.

He was on Alastair in a flash, tackling him into the yard and punching him as hard as he could make his fist go. In his hand, he clutched the wrench he'd been using on the car, refraining from hitting the other boy straight on with it. He didn't even see Crowley advance on him until it was too late. Dean was thrown to the ground and it was his turn to take a face-full of fist.

Then the three boys heard something that stopped them dead. Dean wondered how any of them even heard it with all the noise they were making.

It was something of a cross between a whisper and a wheeze. Dean shoved Crowley off of himself and crawled over to Cas, whose hands seemed to be searching for something as his chest heaved.

“Cas?” Dean asked hoarsely. The other two boys looked dumb-struck, stumbling to their feet as they watched in horror.

“Dean-” Castiel tried, his voice barely audible. He gasped, his hand clutching at Dean's greasy shirt sleeve. “Dean I-” another gasp. “Can't breathe-”

Dean sprung into action, jumping over to Castiel's things that had carelessly been strewn along the road. “Help me!” He screamed at the other boys. They jumped and moved to search through Castiel's things as well.

“Its not here!” Alastair said, his voice panicked. He sat back face in his hands. “I didn't mean-”

“Shut up and fucking look!” Dean bellowed. He moved back to Castiel and sat behind him, pulling him halfway into his lap, the other boy's back against his chest. “Listen to me Cas,” he spread his palm across Cas's heaving chest. “Feel that? Feel me breathe, Cas. Breathe with me. Breathe with me, Cas.” his voice shook but he willed his breathing to become even, chest rising and falling slowly, steadily.

Crowley had righted himself again, staring speechless as Dean spoke. Alastair followed suit when he couldn't find the inhaler. “Come on, let's get out of here,” Dean barely heard Alastair whisper to Crowley before the two retreated.

Dean sat there, fear-stricken, holding Castiel's back against his chest and murmuring calming words into his ear. “Come on, Cas. Breathe with me.” He'd stopped attempting to keep the tremor from his voice.

Castiel's body shuddered and he clutched at Dean's pant leg as he tried to control his breathing. His chest heaved and his face was twisted in pain. He could vaguely hear Dean's soothing words above his own wheezing.

Dean was in a near-panic. He couldn't think of anything else to do but try to calm Cas down. And the only way to do that was to control himself and stay calm. “Come on, Cas. Come on. Breathe. Slow down. You're alright. Shh, I'm here.” He pressed his palm to Castiel's chest and brushed the fingers of his other hand through Cas's hair. “Shh. Come on, baby. You got this. Just _breathe_ ,” Dean felt a hot tear roll down his cheek, landing in Castiel's hair.

Dean didn't notice the pounding feet approaching them until Sam was almost on top of them. “Dean what happened?!”

“Sammy, Cas needs his inhaler!” Dean cried. He felt Castiel's body shudder under his hand and bit back a fearful sob.

The younger Winchester searched Castiel's things frantically until he remembered seeing Castiel dig it out of the front pocket of his bag once. “Here, Dean!” he jumped back to his brother with the inhaler.

Dean snatched it from Sam's outstretched hand and pulled Cas up a little. “Here, Cas.” He tried not to sound too frantic as he helped Castiel take his inhaler.

One moment, Castiel was struggling and fighting for breath, the edges of his vision cloudy and black, and the next it was like his lungs were opened up by the hand of God and he was granted permission to live. “Dean,” he exhaled as his eyes slipped shut and Dean's face fell from view.


	10. You Stayed?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel wakes up somewhere unfamiliar and alone.  
> Dean reflects on the events that led him there.

Castiel woke up surrounded by white. The sheets covering him were starchy and uncomfortable and the light above his head was too bright. When he turned his face to get away from the offending light, something tugged around his face. Castiel reached up to find an oxygen mask secured by elastic straps to the lower portion of his face.

Just as Castiel was lifting the mask from his face, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. “Dean-” his voice was painfully hoarse and he hated how weak it made him sound.

Dean rushed to the side of Cas's bed, “Cas, you gotta keep this on.” He repositioned the mask to Castiel's face and sat down in the chair next to his bed. “How are you feeling man?”

Dean looked like he hadn't slept in ages and his eyes were red and puffy. “I'm okay,” Castiel tried to clear his throat to no avail. “Could you get me some water?”

“Yea, of course!” Dean immediately got up and grabbed a plastic cup from the small sink in the corner, filling it up with water. He added a straw before helping Cas sit up to drink it. “Better?”

Castiel swallowed gratefully and nodded, “much. Thank you, Dean.” He laid back down with Dean's help and offered a weak smile. “How long have you been here?”

“Just as long as you. You've been in and out of consciousness for two days Cas.” Dean's voice was quiet, a hint of sadness in it. “They just kept saying to wait it out,” his eyes met Cas's and he smiled a little. “Sammy was here earlier. He had to go back to school today though. Gabe was here too. Your mom came the first day, but she said with the bills, she couldn't afford to miss work.”

“You stayed?” Castiel asked softly. His brow furrowed and he tilted his head, “why?”

Dean looked taken aback. “What do you mean, _why?_ ” There was obvious hurt in his voice.

“No one ever stays with me after something like that,” Castiel said matter-of-factly, like it was that way with everyone.

“Cas, you almost _died_. You almost died in my arms,” Dean leaned forward in his chair, voice cracking, and he clenched his jaw at the memory, looking away. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Cas, you're my friend. No, you're my _best_ friend. Why wouldn't I have stayed with you after something like that?”

Castiel's expression didn't change. This was all still so new to him. He hadn't had a real friend since Meg left in the third grade. No one ever showed him any kindness. The last time he had an asthma attack no one had stayed in the hospital with him, not even his mother. She'd made the excuse that she had to go back to work to make enough money to pay for his 'pointless medical bills.'

“Cas, say something!” Dean pleaded. He'd moved from his chair to the edge of Castiel's bed.

“You stayed,” Castiel said simply, a small smile playing at his lips as he reached out a hand, placing it on Dean's forearm. “Thank you, Dean... for everything.”

Dean shook his head, “you're an idiot, Cas.” He moved closer and wrapped his arms around Castiel's shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

Of course, at that moment, a nurse decide to intrude. “Oh, Mr. Novak! You're awake. How are you feeling?”

Dean immediately pulled away, hiding his face from view while the nurse spoke.

Castiel jumped at the intrusion and looked up at her with wide eyes. “I feel alright.”

“Good, good. Dean, sweety, I'm going to have to ask you to wait outside while the doctor comes in and checks up on Mr. Novak.”

“Please, call me Castiel.”

Dean got up from the bed, “okay. Will you send someone to get me when you're done?”

“Of course, dear.”

At that Dean retreated to the waiting room down the hallway. He was in desperate need of some caffeine, so he went to the cappuccino machine in the corner and made himself a cup of black coffee.

 

* * *

 

Damn it'd been a long couple of days. As soon as Castiel's breathing had been under control, Dean had carried him into the house and laid him down on the couch. When Cas didn't wake up for thirty minutes, Dean thought he'd be safe to take him to the hospital. He'd told Sam to sit with Cas while he took the Impala off the jack and started her up, then he'd carried Castiel out to the car.

When he carried Castiel into the ER, he was immediately ripped from his grasp and no one told him anything for three hours. Dean had made his presence known within the first forty minutes he was in the waiting area. One of the nurses had threatened to call the police on him if he didn't calm down. Only when she swore to update him as soon as she knew anything did he relax a little.

The next time Dean spoke to the nurse she said that Castiel was in intensive care and he couldn't go back and see him since he wasn't family. That's when Dean had realized he hadn't call Cas's mother. He called Sam up and asked for the number to the Novak home and then called the house.

Of course, Michael had been the one to answer. When Dean told him what had happened, Michael simply stated that it was God's punishment to Castiel for all the lies he'd told them over the years. Dean had screamed every word in the book into the receiver and hung up the phone.

It was another hour before he could get through to Ms. Novak's place of employment and when he explained the situation, she said she couldn't take off work.

Dean couldn't believe this family. If it had been him or, god-forbid, Sammy in that bed, no matter how drunk their father was when he got the news, he'd find a way to get there.

He sat in the waiting room, praying to whoever would listen that Castiel didn't wake up alone. It was 9:30 that night before Cas's mother walked into the hospital asking where her son was. She only stayed twenty minutes, though. Finally, Dean was permitted to sit with Cas.

They had him hooked up to an oxygen machine and an IV drip and numerous other things Dean didn't recognize. The sight of it all made Dean's stomach turn. All he could think was, what if he had just brought him here first? What if he hadn't just let Cas lie on his couch for so long? Damn he'd been so _stupid!_ Why hadn't he just gotten Cas here sooner?

Dean sat next to Cas for the better part of those two days. The only times he got up were when the nurses or doctors basically forced him out of the room. One of those times, of course, was the time Castiel had woken up. Dean hated himself for letting Cas wake up alone. He'd just stopped off in the bathroom to splash some water on his face while the nurse changed Cas's IV. When he got back, Cas was awake.


	11. The Diner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys find a diner and some new things come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading comments at the end of each chapter and I am glad to answer any questions any of you may have. Thank you all so much for all your support and thank you for reading :)

It was the day before Thanksgiving and school was out for the rest of the week. A sheet of powdery snow covered the ground and Castiel had his curtains drawn back so he could see the pure white world beyond the confines of his room. He had a book opened on his desk, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on the words on the page.

It was so boring in his dull room and Castiel couldn't wait to get out of the house. He'd never gotten such bad cabin fever in his life and the only thing on his mind was broad shoulders, green eyes, freckles, and messy, spiked hair.

When had he started thinking of Dean in this way? Had he always been attracted to his friend or was it just some sort of hero fantasy he'd created after Dean had come to the rescue? He shouldn't be thinking about this. He wasn't even sure if Dean liked guys. An even if he did, why would he like Castiel?

Castiel pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and got to his feet. He grabbed his jacket and dug his cell phone from the pocket.

**_Hey, can I come over?_ **

He punched send before he realized he was nervous for the reply. What if Dean was busy? Or worse, what if Dean didn't want him over there? His thoughts were interrupted but the phone buzzing in his hand as he received a text.

_**Sure. Its pretty cold, want me to come get you? We could go out.** _

Castiel's stomach clenched at the possibilities behind those words. He tried to dismiss those thoughts as his phone vibrated again.

**_Maybe we could go to the diner?_ **

A few weeks prior, Castiel and Dean had stumbled upon a small diner a few minutes from their neighborhood and it had quickly become their favorite place to hang out. Probably because there didn't seem to be anyone from school that knew about the little place, so they were never bothered as they sat in the corner booth and joked around.

_**Sure. Just text me when you get here and I'll come out.** _

He'd stopped inviting Dean over to his house when Michael clearly, and violently, expressed his disapproval of 'that _devilish_ Winchester.' The cut on his head had healed quickly after Luc had taken care of him, Castiel begging his brother not to tell Dean it happened. It was still noticeable that there was a cut when he didn't force his hair to cover it.

Castiel was starting to truly loath his oldest brother. His accusations of Dean's corruption had no basis whatsoever and Castiel finally had a friend. His brother should have no say in his social life, if anything, he should be happy for Castiel.

The train wreck of his mind was rattled when he felt his phone vibrate again.

_**Hey, I'm outside. You still comin?** _

Castiel tugged his jacket on before replying.

_**On my way. Just a sec.** _

He stuffed his new inhaler into his pocket and zipped up his jacket, popping the collar up around his neck to fight the cold as he opened the front door.

He piled into the Impala and smiled at Dean as he buckled in. “How's your break been?” he tried not to sound too curious and he tried not to let his gaze linger over Dean's lips as his friend smile back at him.

“Been alright. Kicked Sammy's ass in Call of Duty a few times until he got pissed and went to his room. I know he was probably bitchin' about it to Gabe on the phone.” Dean chuckled and shifted into gear before pulling onto the road, pointing toward the diner.

Conversation on the way to the diner was light and pleasant. Whenever a bout of silence fell over them it wasn't uncomfortable and Castiel found himself staring at Dean a lot. When he realized what he was doing, he quickly turned to look out his window, praying Dean didn't notice Castiel's blue eyes boring a hole in the side of his head.

 

* * *

 

 _Wait. Was Cas just staring at me? No. No way._ Dean shook the thought away. He'd been feeling this way for a couple weeks. He couldn't tell if he was attracted to Cas or if he just felt like he had to protect him.

Since seeing Castiel, laid out on the ground, bleeding and gasping for breath, Dean had felt the need to be close to his friend constantly. It didn't help much when they went to the diner and shared the corner booth, Castiel opting to sit next to Dean on the bench as opposed to across from him. And the guy seemed to have no sense of personal space either, his leg brushing against Dean's under the table as they drank their milkshakes.

Dean pulled up by the diner and cut the engine. He grinned at Castiel as he opened his door. “My treat today.” He stepped out onto the sidewalk before Cas could protest and waited for him, holding the door open for him before following him in.

They both greeted Ellen, the owner of the diner and she smiled, returning their "hellos" She had a daughter, Jo. She was a little younger than Sam and Gabe and went to their school, but she didn't like hanging around the diner much, so they'd both only met her once.

Dean led Cas to their usual booth and slid across the bench seat, leaving plenty of room for Cas to sit next to him. To his dismay, which Dean hid very well if you asked him, Cas took the bench seat across from him. Dean's brow furrowed, “you okay, Cas?”

Castiel squinted at him, “of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?”

Dean shrugged and shook his head, “nothing. Never mind.” Ellen walked over with a soft smile then.

“What can I get for you boys? The usual?” She hadn't even bothered bringing an order pad or pen with her.

Dean smiled up at her, “yea. Chocolate shake, burger and fries for me.”

“And you, hon?”

“Um, the same for me too, Ellen. But make my shake strawberry.” He smiled shyly, not looking directly at her.

“Of course. It'll be right out. I'll send the new girl over with them.” Ellen smiled and retreated to the kitchen, leaving the two boys alone.

Dean's gaze returned to Castiel's face. “Hey, what's up with you?” He picked up the specials display and started messing with it absently.

Castiel's eyes shot up to meet his, “what do you mean? I'm fine.”

Dean shrugged, looking down at the display. “I dunno. You've just been acting strange lately,” he said, his voice careful and quiet. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on straightening one of the bent corners of the laminated paper.

“Strange how?” Castiel inquired, shifting in his seat uneasily.

“Well, like that.” Dean motioned toward Cas. “You, shifting like that. Acting all nervous. And-” He bit his tongue, effectively cutting himself off.

“And what?” Castiel asked curiously.

“Well,” Dean started slowly, pointing his eyes back down at the table and fidgeting with the display again. “Usually when we come here, you sit next to me,” _shit,_ he was sounding like a friggin' chick wasn't he? _Dammit._ “I mean-- like, we share this bench. Not like, you sitting next to me is important or anything. Its just how its always been.” He swallowed hard, feeling like a moron as the words just kept getting violently expelled past his lips, no way of stopping them.

The whole time Dean spoke, Castiel just listened intently. He nodded slightly, eyes squinting and head tilting in that adorable friggin' way Dean loved. Dammit he was attractive. Dean had to stop talking. Had to before he said something he'd regret. “-and its just weird now. Without you so close to me,” he found himself saying before his brain returned to his head and stopped his vocal chords.

“Would you rather me move to your bench, Dean?” Castiel asked, all seriousness.

Dean coughed awkwardly and shifted in his seat. “No, no. That's not what I mean.” He forced himself to meet Cas's eyes. “I mean- never mind.” He waved his hand in the air, signaling the conversation needed to end.

Castiel was just about to press him further when a slim girl, looking to be in her early twenties, approached the table carrying a tray of food.

“Hi, I'll be your waitress today,” the girl said in a sing-song voice as she set the tray down and handed them their shakes and plates. She smiled brightly and scooped the tray up, “if you two need anything else, don't hesitate to ask!” She basically skipped away after the boys thanked her.

“She seemed nice,” Dean said, watching her as she left and picking up his burger.

Castiel squinted at him a moment longer before shaking the thoughts away and taking a long drink of his shake. He kept his eyes trained on the table for a while, subtly eating a few fries between drinks.

Dean noticed how quiet Cas was being and hoped it wasn't his fault. He was just about to ask what was wrong when Castiel's eyes shot up to meet his.

“I think we should talk-” Castiel blurted. He had no idea how to continue or what he hoped to accomplish, but he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

Dean's eyebrows nearly met his hairline and he stopped chewing his burger when Cas spoke. He swallowed hard once he finished chewing and set his food down, pushing his plate away and leaning on the table. “About what?” he had a few hopes of what Cas wanted to talk to him about but he tried not to get his hopes up.

“Um-” Castiel looked back down at the table, unsure of himself. “W-well--” he shifted in his seat.

“Yea?” Dean prompted, curiosity piqued. His brow furrowed slightly and a smile quirked his lips up.

Castiel scowled at the sarcastic look on Dean's face. He clenched his jaw and decided to just say it. “I like you, Dean.” He flinched slightly, expecting Dean to laugh at him, or to get angry with him. Instead, when he finally met Dean's eyes, his friend was smiling at him.


	12. Keep the Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the delay, I just wrote this last night.  
> Chapter 13 will be up in a couple days.  
> There will be a few days between postings from now on due to after school stuff I'm in.  
> I REALLY enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy reading it.

Dean sat back in his seat, slinging his arms over the back of the bench. “You, like me?” he asked, a big, goofy grin spread across his face.

Castiel thought Dean was mocking him, so he looked down at the table, face red with anger and embarrassment. Of course Dean didn't like him. Dean was popular, he was on the football team. Someone like Dean would never go for someone like Castiel. “Never mind,” Castiel said quickly, pulling out his wallet when he noticed the waitress coming over. “Could I get the check please? We're separate.”

Dean's smile was gone the moment Castiel spoke and he leaned closer. He was just about to speak when Cas pulled out his wallet and asked for the check. “Whoa, Cas. I said I've got it.” Dean got out his own wallet, “one check please.”

“Dean, I can pay for myself,” Castiel almost growled. It was one thing for Dean to make fun of him, but he wasn't going to be some charity case. He pulled out a twenty, not even bothering to look at the bill, “keep the change.” He grabbed his jacket and stormed out the door.

Dean blinked in utter confusion at Cas's actions. He immediately grabbed his own jacket and chased after him. “Cas! Cas, _wait!_ ”

Castiel was halfway down the sidewalk when Dan caught up to him. Cas felt a strong hand hook around his elbow and he was spun around. “What do you want, Dean?” He asked angrily. “Are you going to mock me some more?”

Dean let go of Cas's arm and stepped back, “Cas, when did I mock you?” He looked at his friend with complete confusion, brows knitted together and head tilted. Castiel thought Dean's expression resembled his own in more ways than one.

“In there!” Castiel gestured toward the diner. “I could practically _feel_ the mockery in your voice after I told you how I felt!”

Dean shook his head and stepped closer, “Cas, I wasn't mocking you.” His voice was soft, tender, even, but before he could continue, Castiel interrupted him.

“Then why were you smiling like an idiot? You were really getting a kick out of it weren't you?” Castiel shouted. “I should have known! You, of all people. The _popular_ guy. The _football_ star. The _perfect_ one." He spit the words like venom. "There's no way you'd ever be friends with someone like me. A loser. A _nobody_. I'm just a fucking _charity case!_ Aren't I!?” He turned away, storming off and leaving Dean, dumbfounded, on the sidewalk.

Dean chased after him again, angry now. “Wait a minute, Cas!” he cut in front of him, effectively blocking his path. “Is that what you think this is? What we have? You think its a _charity_ case?” He stepped to the side when Castiel tried to go around him, blocking him again. “Well, you're dumber than I thought then! You're a _fucking_ idiot if you think I take pity on you because you had no friends. Well guess what! The reason I talked to you, that first day? I thought you seemed pretty cool. And nice,” he paused, looking down at his shoes. “And honestly? I thought you were different,” he met Castiel's questioning eyes again. “And I like different. Because I'm different. And Cas, _I like you!_ "

Castiel didn't know how to respond to Dean's outburst and effective admittance of feelings, so he just stood there, staring into forest-green eyes and waiting.

Dean held Cas's gaze until he couldn't take the tension anymore. Something had to be said or he was going to explode. He meant to tell Cas to say something, but when he opened his mouth, he was cut off.

“What do you mean?” Castiel whispered. He clenched his jaw and awaited the answer. He was sure he'd interpreted Dean's words incorrectly.

“I mean exactly what I said,” Dean replied simply. Their eyes were still locked and it seemed to Dean that if he ever looked away from those beautiful blue orbs he'd never see them again.

Castiel took a deep, shaky breath, wincing at the cold air. He tried to ignore the internal debate happening inside his head on whether to run or shove Dean against the wall and kiss him 'til he couldn't breathe. But the battle was ended for him when he felt warm, wet lips against his and he was being eased toward the cold brick of the side of the bookstore they were outside of.

Dean had dreamt of this moment for so long and now that it was actually happening, all his previous experience in the art of kissing was gone. He had no idea how to proceed once Castiel's body was pinned between his own and the cold brick.

Castiel made a small noise somewhere between a whimper and a moan and his hands snaked up and around Dean's shoulders. One hand carded through the fine hairs on the back of Dean's neck while the other bunched into the back of his friend's jacket.

Castiel's little noise seemed to snap Dean out of his stupor and his hands found their way down to Cas's hips, where his fingers found warm flesh. He smiled against Castiel's lips when he felt the other boy shiver under his hands, gasping when Castiel tugged his hair.

Castiel leaned into Dean's calloused fingers despite how cold they were and when he felt his friend's lips curve into a smile he couldn't help but tug on Dean's hair. He moaned again and flicked his tongue across Dean's bottom lip, tasting him for the first time.

When Dean felt the warm slickness of Castiel's tongue on his lip it was all he could do not to fall apart right there. He parted his lips, welcoming the intrusion and letting his own tongue explore Cas's mouth.

Dean tasted like chocolate and french fries. Castiel decided right there that that was his favorite combination of flavors. Their lips locked together like two pieces from the same puzzle and it was perfect.

Dean sucked on Castiel's tongue like a starving man. He tasted like strawberries and Dean just couldn't get enough. He cursed inwardly as his lungs burned from lack of oxygen and he had to pull away, practically gasping for breath.

Castiel hadn't noticed that he couldn't breath until he heard Dean gasping and he opened his eyes, meeting dark green ones with a smile on his lips. He kept his arms firmly around Dean's neck and pressed his forehead to Dean's, both of the breathing heavily.

“Wow,” Dean breathed, not losing Cas's gaze. They were flush against each other, Castiel's back flat against the hard brick wall. Dean was suddenly aware that they were in full view of any passers-by that just happened to be out on the cold November afternoon, so he pulled away, clearing his throat. “Er... I'm sorry..” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at his booted feet.

In pure confusion, Castiel let his arms drop down to his sides and simply stared at Dean. He swallowed hard, “w-why?”

Dean's eyes snapped back up to Castiel's and he could practically _feel_ his heart shatter at the look of hurt on Cas's face. He swallowed nervously, “erm, b-because... Because I just kinda-”

Castiel silenced him with a chaste kiss before he turned to start toward the Impala, slipping his hand into Dean's and tugging him along.

Dean followed him, speechless. He dug the keys out of his pocket when they arrived at the car and opened Cas's door for him, smiling all the while. Quickly, Dean jogged around to the driver's side of the car and hopped in, starting her up and looking over to Cas. “What does this mean?”

Castiel smiled at him, “it mean's whatever we want it to mean.”


	13. Flirting and Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set almost directly after the events of chapter 12 with a little back story in the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kinda jumped a little bit. But I think the point is clear.

The ride back to Castiel's house was filled with quiet little snickers and teasing. The two had decided to go back to Cas's house for the remainder of the evening and just hang out, mostly to talk things over.

Dean ended up inviting Castiel over to the Winchester house for Thanksgiving the next day. Castiel was slightly taken aback, but agreed to come.

Castiel had explained to Dean why his family didn't celebrate Thanksgiving, and frankly, Dean didn't get it. Thanksgiving was supposed to be a day for family, and togetherness, and being thankful for what you had. Not a day to be bitter for things that happened in the past.

According to Cas, he hadn't celebrated the holiday since he was a child. The last Thanksgiving he'd had was the last year his father was with them. After that, the Novaks didn't do much along the lines of being thankful.

 

* * *

 

The Winchesters, however, always celebrated Thanksgiving. Well, mostly it was Dean making TV dinners for him and Sammy while John was on a binge. But Dean always made sure to tell Sam what the holiday represented. It was especially hard for him when Sam saw things on TV like a huge turkey and pies and noodles and questioned why they never had stuff like that.

One year, when he was about twelve, Dean managed to get his hands on a pie from the store and a can of sweet potatoes, (which he later found out wasn't his best idea), among other things, and he'd thrown together a makeshift traditional Thanksgiving meal for his brother. That was one of the few years that John had been with them for the holiday, and even better, he'd been sober, (for the most part).

Halfway through the meal, though, John began questioning Dean on the means by which he had obtained the food. Dean, of course, couldn't tell his father he'd shoplifted from the mini-mart down the road from the motel they'd called home for the past couple weeks, so he said people from school had given them to him. Bad idea. John blew up about how they weren't “some damn charity case for some little suck-up do-gooder!” and dragged Dean to the school that next Monday to confront the jackass who had taken pity on them. But just before they barged into the school, Dean admitted to his crimes, pleading John not to make a scene and John had been more than a little unhappy. Dean had to stay home from school that Monday and told anyone who questioned his black eye and split lip as something his little brother did to him while they were playing.

They'd left that town behind the next week and never looked back.

 

* * *

 

This year would be different. John had been gone most of the week and Dean didn't expect him back for at least another four days, so he had planned on inviting Cas over for Thanksgiving dinner. He'd already told Sam that he could invite Gabriel and Sam was ecstatic, thanking Dean every way he could until Dean finally told him if he didn't stop thanking him he'd cancel the whole thing.

 

* * *

 

As a peace offering, Dean invited Michael, Luc and Anna in person while Castiel was in his room, thinking Dean was getting some snacks for them.

As expected, Michael rejected him with some rather harsh words. After the oldest brother stormed out of the room, Luc politely declined Dean's offer and followed him out, leaving Anna behind to apologize.

“It was a nice gesture, Dean, really,” she placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Its just a sore subject with Michael,” Dean could tell Anna was lying to his face, but he didn't say anything. “I'd love to come, but I promised mother I would help her clean the house.”

Dean nodded despite the obvious lie, “thanks, Anna. Its fine. Cas said he was coming and Gabe is coming to hang out with Sammy. So it'll be fine.” He smiled politely and turned to go back to Cas's room, but stopped when he felt Anna's hand slip from his shoulder, to his bicep.

“Dean, you've been so good to my brother,” Anna said, her voice syrupy as she stepped a little too close for comfort, squeezing his arm slightly. She bit her lip and Dean noticed her eyes flick down to his lips before meeting his own again.

He swallowed hard and tried to think of something to say. He knew exactly what she was thinking. So many girls had looked at him exactly like that and it usually ended in a very enjoyable way, but he was trying to do right by Cas and getting with the guy's sister wouldn't exactly help that ideal. Dean cleared his throat, “erm, yea. He's a really good guy. I like him a lot,” He tried to make that last part sound obvious, but Anna didn't get the hint. Just as she leaned in, Dean breathless and unable to find an escape, he heard his saving grace.

“Dean, it doesn't take that long to get a bag of _chips_!” Castiel shouted from his bedroom.

Dean thanked whatever god there may be and made a beeline for Cas's room, grabbing the bag of chips he'd set on the table while he was talking to Cas's siblings. He shut the door behind him and slumped against it, relief washing over him. “Dude, I think your sister just came onto me...”

Castiel's eyes snapped up from his computer to Dean's flushed face. “ _What_?” he couldn't hide the shock from his voice.

“She tried to kiss me,” Dean pushed away from the door and plopped himself down on Cas's bed. He opened the chips and shoved some into his mouth as he kicked his boots off.

Castiel was speechless as he watched Dean. He simply stared at him, studying his flushed cheeks. He loved the way the blush highlighted Dean's freckles, but he hated the fact that he wasn't the reason behind the blush.

“Cas?” Dean noticed Castiel staring at him. “What's wrong?”

“Anna tried to _kiss_ you?” Castiel nearly choked on the statement, face pale as he look down at his hands.

Dean was up in an instant, kneeling in front of Cas, placing his hands on Cas's knees. “Hey, Cas, its okay. She didn't. I actually need to thank you for that, because if you hadn't yelled in there for me I would have had to look like a complete dumbass. I wouldn't have let her kiss me.”

Castiel nodded, not looking directly at Dean. He hadn't even thought of anyone trying to take Dean from him. But now he had to worry about his own _sister_ taking Dean. What if Dean liked her more? What if he got bored with him?

“Hey, look at me,” Dean hooked a finger under Cas's chin, lifting his face up so he could look into his eyes. “We just started. And I don't want it to end just yet. Well, actually, I don't want it to end ever.”

Castiel couldn't find his voice. He just blinked back the tears that had formed in his eyes and pressed into Dean's touch, a shy smile twisting the corners of his mouth up.

“There's my boy,” Dean said softly, returning the smile and leaning in to give Cas a light kiss. He got to his feet and pulled Cas up and out of the chair. Dean led Cas over to the bed and sat down, pulling Cas down next to him, “wanna watch a movie?”

“Dear god I don't think I can take another of your horror flicks. Don't you realize they are all basically the same exact movie?” He laughed as he jabbed Dean in the ribs and Dean scoffed.

“They are _not_ all the same,” Dean mumbled. “The killers are all completely different! I mean, come on! **Freddie** kills kids in their **dreams** , **Jason** slashes up with a friggin' **machete**!” He held up his fingers as he rattled off the different serial killers from his favorite movies.

“Nonetheless,” Castiel chuckled. “Let's watch something else.”

“Like what?” Dean asked suspiciously.

“I dunno? Maybe something less gore, more-”

“Don't tell me you wanna watch some sappy romance movie?” Dean cut in, mock exasperation in his voice.

“Would it kill you to be a little more cultured?” Cas teased, tickling Dean's side playfully.

Dean laughed and shoved Cas's hand away. “Fine,” he sighed dramatically. “We can watch a sappy romance, but I can't guarantee that I'll be paying attention the whole time.” He grinned as Cas rolled his eyes.

“Just don't be a distraction. I might actually like to _watch_ the movie.” Even as he spoke, Castiel knew he was lying through his teeth. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV that Dean had helped him hook up last month. He'd stored the bulky box in his closet when he got into high school so he could focus on his studies, but since he became friends with Dean, he could honestly care less for the time being. Sure, he kept up on his homework and maintained his GPA, but he also allowed himself some fun too.

Dean laid back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as Cas searched for a movie on TV. He grabbed one of the pillows from the head of the bed and moved so he was on his stomach, feet where the pillow was previously. “Find anything?” he questioned, poking Cas's ribs to get his attention.

Cas shooed his hand away as he continued to flip through the channels, “it doesn't look like anything is on.” He sighed and dropped the remote onto the bed, falling back next to Dean. He scrubbed at his face, “What do you want to do?”

Dean pushed himself up so he was sitting on his knees, looking down at Cas. “I could think of a few things,” he smirked and leaned down to press a short kiss to Cas's lips before grabbing the collar of Cas's shirt and pulling him up so he was sitting up.

Castiel grinned and snaked his arms around Dean's shoulders, slipping his fingers into Dean's spiky hair. “Mmn I think I do like this better than a movie,” he hummed before kissing Dean again, this time slower.

Dean smiled against Castiel's lips when he felt his friend's tongue slide across his bottom lip. He welcomed Cas's tongue greedily, letting his hands slip under Cas's shirt to press into his hips. Damn those hipbones could cut him. He debated tugging Cas's shirt over his head, but thought better of it seeing as there was no lock on the bedroom door.

As if by some curse, a sharp knock on the door found the two boys pulling apart and straightening rumpled clothes. "Castiel, mother says that Dean needs to go home,” Anna's sing-song voice filled the silence in the room through the door.

Castiel sighed and attempted to tame his hair as he made his way to his door. “When did she say that?” he asked harshly after yanking the door open.

Anna didn't seem fazed by Castiel's tone, looking over her brother's shoulder at Dean and smiling in a very flirty way.

Castiel scowled when he saw Dean shift uneasily and a blush spread from his chest to his cheeks. “Anna, get out! Mother didn't call, I would have heard the phone. We're watching TV so leave us alone!”

Instead of listening to her brother, Anna pushed past him and plopped down on the bed right next to Dean, practically on top of him. “Ooh what are you watching?” she asked with a sly smile.

Dean shifted, “erm, I-I don't know, we were trying to find something.”

Castiel nearly growled at the interaction, moving to sit at the head of the bed closest to Dean, snatching the remote from Anna. “Anna, I said _get out_!” he snarled.

“Oh come on, Cassie. Can't I hang out with you and your hunky new friend?” She replied teasingly, walking her fingers up Dean's arm.

“Uhm, Anna, I-I think you should know-” Dean started but was cut off by Anna's slim finger pressing to his lips to shush him.

Castiel didn't know what do do as he watched his sister lean in to kiss... well the best word for him would be boyfriend, but they hadn't gotten around to talking about it yet. His thoughts were disrupted but Dean's sputtering voice.

“I'm gay!” Dean said hurriedly as Anna's lips hovered millimeters from his own, him leaning back on his arms to try to avoid her.

Castiel was taken completely aback as Anna blinked in surprised silence and moved back to study Dean's face, looking for any sign of a lie.

“You could just say that you're not into me,” she said slowly. “You don't have to make up some bullshit lie,” Dean could hear the hurt in her voice, but he could care less if she thought he was lying.

“Okay, you can believe I'm lying all you want,” he shrugged and moved away from her and closer to Cas. “But I'm not.”

Anna huffed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her and leaving the boys laughing on the bed.

“I cannot believe you just told my sister you're gay,” Castiel laughed.

“Why not? I am. Its kind of obvious Cas,” Dean chuckled.

“No. Not obvious,” Cas gasped for breath and regained his composure. “Dean, I had no idea you were gay until you kissed me,” he said in a serious tone.

Dean stopped laughing and his brow furrowed, “really? I thought you knew.”

“What have you done that would have hinted at you being gay?” Castiel inquired.

Dean shrugged, “for starters, I'll admit, I can't seem to keep my eyes off of you. I mean _damn_ man. You're hot, okay?” He grinned.

Castiel raised his eyebrows in shock. “You think I'm hot?”

Dean let out a low whistle, looking Cas up and down, “who could _not_ think you're hot?”

Castiel felt heat rush to his face and he looked down.

“Hey,” Dean hooked a finger under Cas's chin and lifted his face up. “Don't be embarrassed, babe. Flaunt it. You sure got it,” he smiled and kissed Cas lightly before standing up. “I really should be getting home though. I've got a dinner to cook tomorrow and I wanna get an early start.” He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. “I'll see you tomorrow, right?” He sat down at the foot of the bed and pulled his boots on.

“Of course,” Castiel moved to the foot of the bed and wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders from behind, resting his hands on Dean's chest. He kissed his temple and nuzzled behind his ear before letting Dean get up and move toward the door. “See you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been dying to write some more fics, but I lack inspiration.  
> If any of you have wanted to read a fic that you just can't seem to find, just comment what you'd like and I can try to do it. They could be short little ficlets or I might get really into it and make a really long one.  
> Oh, but I'm not very good with cannon and I don't like fem!Cas/Dean or Mpreg.  
> If I feel I can't write your prompt, I'll tell you and I'm sorry in advance.


	14. Giving Thanks and Being Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know I said updates will be slower, but I've had a lot of free time recently, so here you go.

Dean was up and had the turkey in the oven before the sun was all the way up. He proudly began working on making pies, apple for himself, banana cream for Sammy and Gabe, and pumpkin especially for Cas. 

As he took the last pie out of the oven, Sam emerged from his bedroom, shaggy hair sticking up in ways that shouldn't have been possible. “What smells so good?” the boy asked as he stretched and yawned in the kitchen doorway. 

Dean beamed, “I told you. We're having a real Thanksgiving this year.” 

Sam's eyes resembled saucers as he glanced around the kitchen at all the different dishes Dean had been slaving over for the last several hours. “You made all this? By yourself?” 

Dean looked around proudly, “yea. I told you.” He looked back to Sam, damn the kid was growing like a weed. He ruffled the boy's hair and shoved him playfully, “now go get ready! I can smell you from here!” he laughed. 

Sam scoffed but pushed Dean back before turning to go get some clothes from his room. 

Castiel and Gabriel showed up a couple hours later. Dean had told them to bring their appetites and nothing else, and Castiel felt strange going empty handed, but didn't know what he could possibly bring, so he obeyed. 

When the Novak brothers walked into the Winchester house, their expressions could only be described as awe. The house smelled amazing and the food looked great. Castiel was shocked that Dean had put it all together by himself. 

“What? You didn't think I could cook?” Dean had said in mock hurt when Cas brought it up. He'd beamed with pride at the praise he got from the meal. 

None of the boys having experienced a real Thanksgiving, at least not for over ten years, it was incredible. Nearly everything was eaten and conversation was good. Gabriel was impressed that Dean remembered his favorite pie, yet another thing he shared with Sam, and said so multiple times. Castiel couldn't get over the fact that Dean made him his own pumpkin pie, no one else really liked it so Castiel got it to himself for the most part. The turkey was small, but perfect for the four of them and Dean had prepared it perfectly. 

When all was said and done, Castiel helped Dean clean up the kitchen and put away the leftovers. Dean insisted Cas take at least half of the food home for himself and Gabe and Castiel eventually gave in. 

The two joked around and threw soap bubbles at each other as they did the dishes, Dean slapping some right into Castiel's hair while the other was scraping something into the trash. Castiel got him back while Dean was packing up the extra turkey by sticking an ice cube down the other's shirt. Dean had squirmed and fought to get the cold intrusion off of his back, calling a truce when he finally succeeded because damn, Cas knew how to get back at someone. 

After the kitchen was cleaned up and all four boys were full and sleepy, they gathered in the living room to watch some TV. Dean planted himself down at one end of the couch and Castiel stretched out along the length of it, resting his upper body on Dean's legs, while the younger boys made a pallet of blankets on the floor and fell asleep shortly after laying down. 

After making certain the younger brothers were sound asleep, Dean and Castiel stole a quick kiss and made their way to Dean's bedroom. 

“Dean, what you did today,” Castiel said after they lay quiet for nearly an hour. His head was resting on Dean's stomach as Dean was stretched sideways on the bed. “It was amazing and I wanted to thank you.” He'd already said it about a hundred times, but he didn't feel like that was enough. 

“Cas, you don't have to thank me,” Dean said for what seemed like the thousandth time. “I did it for you, and Sammy, and Gabe. You guys deserved it.” 

“Dean its more than that. No one has ever done something like that for me. Or for Gabe for that matter.” Castiel said, messing with the frayed hem of Dean's old t-shirt he'd borrowed to sleep in. 

Dean ran his fingers through Cas's hair, “like I said, you guys deserve it.” 

Castiel sighed but didn't reply. He really was thankful for all Dean had done for him, not just today, but since the first day they'd met. Dean had done so much for him and it felt like he hadn't done anything for Dean. All he'd done for him was turn him into a victim for the school bullies and cause him all kinds of heartache. Of course he would never tell Dean he felt this way, the guy would only deny it and defend Castiel to himself. He would keep this to himself and make a greater effort to do more for Dean. 

Castiel dozed off with that thought in his mind, sleeping for just a short few minutes before Dean shifted underneath him. He expected to be asked to go sleep on the couch, but instead, Dean moved so he was using the pillow next to the one Castiel's head rested on and wrapped his arm around Castiel's waist. 

“Hmm I wouldn't have pegged you for a cuddler, Dean Winchester,” Castiel teased sleepily. 

Dean made a sort of “humph” sound and mumbled, “its cold, I'm conserving body heat.” 

“Uh huh,” Castiel chuckled and rolled onto his side so his back was pressed firmly to Dean's chest. 

They fell asleep like this, Dean's head tucked into the back of Castiel's neck, lips barely touching the nape, and Castiel happily pressed to Dean's muscular body. 

***** 

The weeks that followed were pleasant. Dean and Castiel went to school that Monday as an open couple. 

No one picked on Castiel any more than usual, though there were a few more insults mixed in with the previous ones. Dean, however, was shunned by his team. It was a pity too, since he had grown to enjoy playing football and had become a big star on the team. Once his teammates found out he was gay none of them wanted to be in the locker room with him. The worst, of course, were Crowley and Alastair. 

On the field, the only one that could really affect Dean was Alastair, because he played block for Dean. But off the field was hell. They constantly hassled Dean in the locker room. It got to the point that after practice Dean simply didn't shower and went home smelling foul. Sam understood, though, and didn't say anything as Dean commandeered the bathroom every day after school. 

Dean didn't mind any of the torment, however, because it meant that they had less time for Cas while they were occupied with him. Dean took the teasing and occasional beating without fighting back. It didn't bother him. He was happy with Castiel, the rest of the world be damned. 

Castiel didn't feel the same as Dean about their situation. He was happy that they could be public, but he hated how hard people were on Dean. He could take the hits and the snide remarks, hell he'd been taking the same for the last eight years, but he couldn't stand it seeing them do the same to Dean. And there was a limit to what he could do. Their school didn't have any rules against discrimination about sexual orientation. So any complaints he could make to the principal had to be about some offense made that didn't have anything to do with Dean or himself being gay. So to speak, Castiel couldn't do anything to help Dean. 

It wasn't all bad, though. In the classes they had together they got to work with each other and they both got along. Castiel even helped Dean bring his grades up, and when Dean told him that during football sectionals the coach was putting him in as the starting running back Castiel beamed with pride. 

***** 

It was that little bit of faith that his coach had in Dean that would bring Castiel's world crashing down. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So SORRY!!! I had a long, internal debate on whether to keep that last sentence in this chapter or put it in the next. It might be a few days before I can get the next chapter up as well, so I am so sorry. But, I could find the time and write it like, tomorrow or something. you never know with me. 
> 
> Also, if you want any fics that you haven't found, leave me a comment with a prompt and I'll try to write it.   
> OOOOOOOOOOH! and. If any of you are super duper artistic, I would love you if you could make some fanart for this work. I would love one of Dean and Castiel's first day together, probably in the cafeteria? (please?) Or maybe their first kiss. that would be steamy ;) ;)


	15. Slow Motion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastair stopped at the 13.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.  
> And sorry, I got sorta jumpy on this one.  
> The chapter jumps between the event and the aftermath of said event.

He slumped against the wall, sinking to the floor in the hallway. Doctors and nurses rushed around him but he couldn't comprehend what was happening. It was like he had earmuffs and beer goggles on. His phone was heavy in his hand and Sam's number was pulled up, waiting for him to punch the call button. He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell Sam Winchester what had happened to his brother. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Dean had practically glowed when he walked through Castiel's door and told him he was starting for sectionals. Castiel had been so proud. Since the beginning of the year he'd been going to Dean's games, sitting where no one would notice him, but watching all the same. 

He loved watching Dean play. He loved the way Dean grew to love the game and he loved the way others admired Dean's talent. 

The first couple games Dean started in went very smoothly. Their team was great so they were relatively easy wins. 

The third game of playoffs was different. Dean was stressed because the last time they played that team, they got smoked. He was determined not to let it happen again. 

Alastair was blocking for Dean, per usual, and everything was going great. The two made three touchdowns, Alastair was a great block. But Castiel noticed an exchange between Crowley and Alastair when the defensive and offensive lines were changing out, and thought it was suspicious. Two plays were run smoothly and it was first down on the 34 yard line. 

Of course, Dean got the ball. Alastair made a great block at the 29, another at the 20. When Dean got the the 15 yard line, Castiel noticed Alastair let up a little. He didn't think anything of it, of course, until Alastair stopped at the 13. 

Without his block, Dean was open to hits from all sides, and without the knowledge that he didn't have a block he was completely vulnerable. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder followed by a soft voice with a slight British tinge to it 

“Sir, do you need some help?” he looked up to see a very young looking, blonde, male nurse standing over him. 

“Um, no. I-I'm waiting for news on a patient,” Castiel said, his voice hoarse from tears he hadn't been aware of. 

“What's the patient's name?” the man asked kindly, helping Castiel to his feet. 

“Dean. Dean Winchester. He-he was playing football and-” 

“I know who you're talking about,” the man said soothingly. He led Castiel to a small waiting area and ushered him into a seat. “I'll go check on your friend and be right back, okay?” 

Castiel nodded tiredly, not trusting his voice. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Castiel saw it all in slow motion. 

A guy that looked like twice Dean's side hit him hard in the right hip. Instead of tackling him straight to the ground, this guy lifted up as he hit Dean, sending him into the air. Like a slow motion clip, Dean was up and his body was turning so his feet were above his head. He came down hard after spinning a complete 360 and then some. 

His shoulder hit first, knocking his head to the side. He lay there motionless for a long moment before anyone could react. 

Castiel had somehow managed to get from the top of the stands and all the way down to the fence before Dean hit the ground. He was shocked into speechlessness as he watched the coaches race out onto the field. The ambulance that they kept read was moved closer so they could take Dean away if they needed it. 

Castiel was horrified. Dean wasn't moving and no one had touched him, so he was still in the awkward position he'd landed in. No one touched him until the EMTs got onto the field and had the coaches help them move Dean onto a stretcher. 

“No,” Castiel thought aloud, shaking his head and covering his face with his hands. When he looked again they were loading Dean into the ambulance. The stadium was silent. 

Castiel sprinted toward the ambulance, getting the just before they shut the doors. “Please! Please let me go with him!” he begged one of the EMTs. 

The man looked at him sympathetically, “are you family?” 

'W-well, no. But his brother isn't here. Please let me go!” 

“I'm sorry, kid, if you're not family we can't let you ride.” 

“Dean!” Castiel pushed past the man to see into the ambulance. “At least tell me how he is!” he was beginning to cry but he didn't care, he had to make sure Dean was okay. 

“We don't know yet, just looking at him didn't tell us much. We need to get him to the hospital, son.” 

“Please, let me go with him,” Castiel said in a painfully small voice. He was looking at Dean now, still on the stretcher while the second EMT was putting an IV in his arm. 

The man sighed, “get in and stay out of the way.” 

Castiel didn't need further encouragement. He was up in the ambulance and sitting across from the working EMTs in less than two seconds. “Thank you, so much!” 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean all but whispered, his voice sounding pained. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Castiel was in the waiting room for only ten minutes before the nurse came back in. Cas couldn't read his facial expression and thought that was probably for the best, he didn't need to worry if it was nothing. 

“Well, they told me your friend is in surgery right now,” the man said calmly, taking the seat across from Castiel, face still unreadable. 

Castiel shifted in his seat, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “How bad is it?” He should have called Sam before. Sam should be here with him. It had been nearly an hour and he wasn't even sure if his boyfriend's little brother knew that his life could be in danger. 

“They wouldn't say,” Castiel tensed. “But they did say that his neck is not broken, as they previously assumed.” 

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief, though he still didn't know just how bad Dean's condition was. “Do you mind?” he held up his phone automatically. “I need to call his brother.” 

“Of course,” the nurse stood and patted Castiel on the shoulder. “If you'd like any more information, just come to the nurse's station and ask for me. My name is Balthazar.” 

“Thank you. I'm Castiel.” he accepted Balthazar's extended hand and pulled up Sam's number on his phone. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

“Why the hell didn't you call me sooner?!” Sam shouted through the phone line. 

Curse words coming from such a young voice sounded strange to Castiel, but he understood. He'd told the boy everything he knew so far and Sam was actually reacting a lot better than anticipated. Their friendship had probably taken a blow due to the delay of information, but Castiel would make it up to the youngest Winchester. 

“I'm sorry, Sam. I really am. But they weren't telling me anything at all. I know I should have called you right when it happened. I am so sorry,” Castiel tried to keep his voice steady. He prayed Sam would forgive him, but he really wasn't expecting forgiveness right now. 

A sigh from the other end, “I know, I'm sorry, Cas. I'm just scared, okay? Will you text me with updates? I don't have any way to get to the hospital.” 

“Of course I will. Again, Sam, I'm so sorry.” 

“Cas, its okay. Just keep me updated.” 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

It was three hours and countless cups of cruddy coffee later when a doctor finally came into the waiting room where Castiel was. “Excuse, me. You're here for Dean Winchester, correct?” 

Castiel was on his feet, nodding stupidly, “yes. How is he?” 

“He's out of surgery.” 

“How was it?” Castiel tried not to sound anxious. 

“There were complications, but he's going to be just fine.” 

Castiel nearly collapsed from relief, pulling the doctor into a tight embrace and thanking him about a hundred times. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized how late this update was. So sorry!!!  
> There was some hectic crap at my school and I had to deal with some jerk.  
> Guess what?! I actually have a bully. for the first time in six years, someone is bullying me. I'm a freaking senior in high school and someone is bullying me.  
> Sorry, little mini-rant.  
> I hope you like the chapter. Its sorta got two different plotlines, but its easy to follow.  
> It just jumps after a little explanation.  
> OH! And this one doesn't have a chapter title. If you have any suggestions, I'm open for them. I just couldn't decide what to title it.

Castiel was allowed into Dean's room to visit him after he was moved from intensive care the day after the accident. 

When he walked into the room, Castiel's heart shattered in his chest. Dean was hooked up to various machines, his right arm was in some sort of contraption Cas had never seen before and his right leg was elevated in a sling. 

“Hey, Cas! 'Bout damn time they let you in here! I've been buggin' 'em about it for hours.” Dean's voice seemed a lot more cheerful than Castiel would have thought. 

He smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes as they traveled down Dean's body. 

“Its not as bad as it looks,” Dean said quickly, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. 

“It looks bad,” Cas murmured as he moved to sit in the chair next to Dean's bed. “How are you feeling?” 

Dean reached his good hand to Cas and laced their fingers, “better now.” A soft smile graced his face and he brought Castiel's hand up to his lips and kissed it. 

“I see you're on pain meds,” Cas tried to joke. 

“Actually, no. I told 'em to quit giving them to me. I don't need meds,” Dean shrugged and winced when his right arm shifted. 

“Dean,” Cas shook his head but a small smile crossed his features. “You shouldn't put anymore stress on yourself than what's necessary. What's the diagnosis?” he motioned toward Dean's arm and leg. 

He looked down at his injuries, “oh, uh, they said that my hip dislocated and there were a couple small fractures in it. Then when I landed, my arm got really busted up. No biggie. Some time and physical therapy and I'll be good-as-new.” 

Castiel admired how utterly... okay, Dean was with all of this. “Do you know how it happened?” 

Dean's features immediately grew dark and he clenched his jaw, “I can assume how it happened.” 

“I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean-” 

“Its okay, Cas. Sorry.” Dean mumbled, giving his hand a light squeeze. “What did Sammy say?” 

Cas stilled, “I didn't call him until you were already in surgery, so he... wasn't very happy with me. I've been keeping him updated, though. He hasn't been able to get up here because your father hasn't been home in a few days and he doesn't have anyone that can drive him.” 

“Do you know if my dad knows?” 

“Sam said he wouldn't answer his phone, so unless he's gotten the voice mails and text messages, he doesn't know.” 

Dean nodded and looked down at his lap, lips pursed. “Could you go ask the doctor how long I have to stay here? I want to go home.” 

“Of course,” Castiel said softly as he got up to go, but Dean's grip on his hand tightened on his hand. He turned back to Dean, confusion on his face. 

“I'm sorry, Cas. For making you worry.” 

Cas shook his head, “Dean, you didn't do anything wrong. You just need to worry about getting better.” He kissed Dean's forehead and went out to the hallway. 

\-------- 

Dean's recovery was slow-going, but by February he was back on his feet and his arm was only in a sling. 

He had honestly expected Cas to get frustrated with him, especially since Dean had acted like a child during his physical therapy sessions. It was more than once that Dean thought Cas was just gonna walk out and never speak to him again. 

But he never did. He was there for all of it. For all the shit Dean put him through; complaining about his life being ruined, throwing tantrums when he couldn't do something simple that the therapist tasked him with. It was a hard road, but Cas was there for him. 

\--------- 

Valentine's Day was approaching and Dean wanted to do something special to thank Cas for being so great. He begged and pleaded with John to let him borrow the Impala but he continuously shot him down. Dean knew his father wouldn't be using the car anyway, since he was always drunk, so he didn't know what the deal was. 

'Oh well,' he thought. 'I can think of a way to thank Cas without using a car.' He racked his brain for ideas, but came up blank. He figured he'd think of something at school the next day, seeing Cas would help. 

It was two days before Valentine's Day and Dean still didn't have any plans for Cas. He slumped against his locker and shook his head. He didn't want to let Cas down, but with what little he had thought of to do for him he knew he would be. A cheerful voice brought him back to reality. 

“Hey, Dean! What's up?” Victor Henriksen, one of the guys from the football team walked toward him. Victor had been one of the few guys that didn't judge him for dating Cas, probably because he started school here just a couple months after Dean did, so he never picked on Cas in the first place. 

“Hey, Vic. I'm alright, you?” Dean tried to sound cheerful but by the look on Victor's face, he'd failed. 

“What's eatin' at you?” Vic asked, ignoring Dean's question. 

Dean shrugged and scrubbed his good hand down his face, “oh man, y'know. Valentine's Day is comin' up,” 

“And you don't know what to get Cas.” It was more a statement than a question. 

“Damn. I mean, you'd think I could think of something for all the shit I've put him through these past few months,” Dean slammed his locker shut and started down the hallway. Cas wasn't in his next class, so he could talk to Victor without having to worry about Cas hearing, though he wouldn't be hearing of any secret plans anyway. 

“Hey, don't sweat it, man,” Vic caught up to him and opened the door so Dean wouldn't have to shuffle his books to get it open. “You'll think of something.” 

“Its in two days, Vic!” Dean dropped his books on his desk and slumped into the chair. “What am I gonna do?” 

“Awe, is loverboy having relationship troubles?” Dean scowled at the tease from across the room, glancing over in time to see Crowley receive a high-five from one of his friends. 

“Mind your own business, asshole!” Vic hissed before sitting across from Dean. 

“Its fine, Vic,” Dean mumbled. “Anyway, do you have any suggestions?” 

“Have you thought about taking him out somewhere?” 

“Dad won't let me use the car.” 

“Well, the weather hasn't been too bad. You guys could walk somewhere?” his friend suggested helpfully. 

“Yea, but I'm not supposed to do 'strenuous' activities, so Cas wouldn't let me walk somewhere,” Dean put his head on his arm on the desk and groaned. “I'm gonna let him down. I know I am.” 

“Come on, Dean,” Vic patted him on the shoulder. “You'll think of something,” as he finished, the bell rang for class to start. 

\--------- 

The next day went a little better. Dean made a list of things he wouldn't be able to pull off, either because of his physical state or his financial one. That made the possibilities of what he could do more clear. With a few more suggestions from Victor, he finally decided what he was going to do to thank Cas. 

Valentine's day was on a Friday, so of course, Dean was with Cas almost all day. He tried to seem aloof, but he thought he only came off as being a dick. Hell, he didn't even wish Cas a happy Valentine's Day, acting like he didn't realize it was. He felt bad, but he would make it up to him later. 

The final bell rang for the end of school and Dean hurried to his locker to get his bag before Cas got there. 

He made sure it was in his bag before he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turned a little too quickly and cursed inwardly as he tried to hide the guilt from his expression. “Oh, hey, Cas.” 

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, expressionless. Dean wondered what he was thinking about. He felt bad for how he'd been avoiding Cas all day... and most of the week, but he would make it up to him. 

“Are you riding the bus?” Dean asked, trying to sound nonchalant as he started toward the main entrance. 

“Yes. Why wouldn't I?” Castiel tilted his head as he caught up to Dean. 

Dean shrugged, “I dunno? Just asking?” 

Castiel squinted at him in confusion as they got to the door, opening it for Dean. 

“Thanks,” Dean said as he waited for Cas outside. They walked to the bus in silence and Cas let Dean have the aisle seat as they sat down. 

The bus ride was awkward to say the least. They sat in uncomfortable silence, neither willing to say anything about how Dean had been acting lately. Dean made small talk with a couple people across the aisle and in front of them while Cas listened to music on his iPod and read. 

When the bus rolled to a stop at their bus stop, Dean slung his back pack over his shoulder and hurried off the bus, trying to avoid an awkward conversation with Cas. 

“Dean!” Cas had no trouble catching up to Dean as he limped along the street. “Dean, what's going on with you?” his voice was accusing as he stepped in front of Dean, effectively cutting him off. 

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked, shifting uneasily. 

“You know damn well what I'm talking about!” Cas kept his voice even. “You've been completely ignoring me all week, and today was hell.” His voice trailed off near the end and his lowered his gaze to the ground. 

Dean furrowed his brow, “I don't know what you mean, Cas?” He honestly didn't know what Castiel meant by 'today was hell.' 

“Its the fourteenth,” Cas mumbled, grip visibly tightening on his bag. 

“Yea, and?” Dean shifted his weight to his good leg uncomfortably. 

“Of February,” Castiel's eyes snapped back up to Dean's face, anger flaring in them, causing Dean to look away. 

He let out a long sigh, “look. Cas-” 

“You know what? Never mind.” Castiel moved back the way they'd come and headed toward his street. 

“Cas, wait!” Dean reached for Cas's hand but he was already out of reach, so he chased after him. “Cas, I know its Valentine's Day. Please, will you just listen!” He grabbed Castiel's hand just as he rounded the corner and cut him off. 

“What, Dean! So, you know its Valentine's Day. And don't you know that Valentine's Day is literally a holiday for love? And relationships? Last I checked, Dean, this, what we have?” he motioned between the two of them, “That's a relationship.” 

“Cas, I know. I know that, okay? And I know I've been a complete dick to you for the past few months. I know. And I wanted to make it up to you tonight. I wanted to surprise you,” he couldn't disguise the guilt from his voice or his face as he spoke. “I didn't want you finding out about it somehow, so I avoided you. I was excited and I didn't want it to slip,” he looked down at his feet and cleared his throat. “I'm really sorry, Cas,” he said quietly. He chanced a look at Cas's face after he stopped talking. 

Cas looked at him with what Dean could only identify as regret. For what, he didn't know. “Dean...” he shook his head. “What- why?” 

“You're too good for me, Cas. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you.” He laced his fingers with Cas's, “how much I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the next chapter won't take me as long to write.  
> I hope you enjoyed this one.  
> Thanks for reading.


	17. Valentine's Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mature content

Dean invited Castiel over that evening. John was out doing god only knows what and Dean sent Sam to spend the night with Gabriel, so they had the house to themselves. Dean wanted to cook dinner for Castiel, but Cas insisted he do the cooking since Dean only had one functioning arm. Dean had argued and they compromised on Dean helping him cook. 

It was simple, burgers with fries and salad. The salad was mostly for Cas, but Dean ate it just the same. 

After dinner, they migrated to the couch and watched sappy romance movies on TV. Dean stretched out, leaning against the arm and Cas laid so he was comfortably between Dean's legs, his head on his boyfriend's chest. Dean played absently with Castiel's hair as the movie played and Cas teased him for it, calling him a romantic. Dean tried to argue with him but quickly gave up when he was silenced by Castiel's lips. 

After three completely clichéd Valentine's Day movies, Dean turned off the TV and rubbed Cas's back gently to wake him up. He'd dozed off about halfway through the second movie. 

“Cas,” he whispered sweetly. “Cas, baby, wake up. I need to ask you something.” 

“Hmm,” Cas groaned, shifting but not opening his eyes. 

“Castiel.” 

Cas loved it when Dean said his full name. It sounded so good coming from those lips. He rubbed his eyes roughly to try and wake himself up. “What is it, Dean?” he said, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Will you be my Valentine?” it had to be the cheesiest line he'd ever said in his life. 

Cas moved so he could see Dean properly, a goofy grin cutting into his cheeks. “Of course I'll be your Valentine,” he said, “but only if you'll be mine.” 

Dean captured his lips in a passionate kiss, his good hand resting on the nape of Castiel's neck. When they finally broke apart, he whispered, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Dean Winchester.” 

“I'm sorry I've been such and ass lately,” Dean said honestly, pressing his forehead to Castiel's. “And I'm gonna try to be the best I can be for you. Always.” He shifted under Cas a little and when he brought his hand back out he held a small, rectangular box in it. “Happy Valentine's Day, baby.” 

Castiel's face displayed complete shock as he took the box from Dean, opening it slowly. He looked back up to Dean with a smile adorning his features. 

In the box, was a silver cross with a red stone in the middle and a pair of wings draped over it. He lifted it slowly from the box, its fair, silver chain following. “Dean its beautiful,” he said breathlessly. 

“For my angel,” Dean said softly. He reached over and carefully took it from Castiel, fastening it around his neck. 

Castiel admired it from its place on his chest for a moment before wrapping Dean into a tight hug. “Thank you, Dean. I love it.” 

“I hoped you would. You're a hard guy to shop for,” Dean chuckled, inhaling Castiel's scent while his arms were still wrapped around him. 

“Its perfect.” Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Castiel pushed himself up and away from Dean. “Wait right here!” he said quickly before darting from the room. 

Not really realizing what just happened except that the warmth provided by Cas and the weight of his body against his own was suddenly gone, Dean sat in silence until Cas got back. 

“I forgot about this until a couple days ago and I wanted you to have it,” Cas said, reentering the living room. He held something that looked like a picture frame, wrapped in plain paper, and Dean's curiosity was piqued. 

“What's that?” Dean sat up fully on the couch and tried to see the item better. 

“The morning after Thanksgiving, I woke up before you and, well-” he shoved the item toward Dean, urging him to open it. “Its not very good...” he mumbled as Dean tore the paper away. 

It was a picture frame. With a hand drawn picture inside. It was breathtaking. Cas had captured Dean's likeness to a T. 

Dean lay on his bed, the blankets pooled around his waist and covering his legs. His shirt was riding up ever-so-slightly, revealing just a strip of skin above the blankets. 

His face, though. That's what took Dean's breath away. It was so peaceful. No worries in the world on that face. His lips were parted slightly, just hinting at a set of perfectly straight teeth. 

One leg was straight, he could see from the outline of the blanket, and the other was bent at an angle that made them look like a four. One arm was draped across his stomach and the other was tucked behind his head, which was tilted at just the right angle, toward the viewer. 

“Cas,” he breathed. He must have stared at the picture for ten minutes before a sound escaped him. 

“I told you its not very good,” he shook his head. “I shouldn't have given it to you. You probably think its stupid-” 

Dean caught his lips in a kiss, pulling him down onto his lap after he set the picture aside. “Cas its perfect. You're so talented, baby. Stop tearing yourself down.” He let his hand rest on Castiel's hip as he kissed him again. 

“You really like it? You're not just saying that...” Castiel asked sheepishly. Looking down and toying with the hem of Dean's shirt. 

“I love it, Cas,” Dean hooked a finger under Cas's chin and lifted his face up. “You're perfect.” 

Castiel blushed wildly and looked down again, pressing his forehead to Dean's. “You're corny,” he mumbled. “What a line,” he laughed lightly, leaning forward to let his lips brush against Dean's neck. He felt Dean tilt his head back and he kissed a trail down his throat and to his collarbone. Dean made a small noise and it spurned Cas on. He nipped lightly at the sensitive skin on Dean's throat and smile to himself when Dean gasped. 

“Damn, Cas,” Dean moaned. His head dropped back so it was against the back of the couch and he tightened his grip on Cas's hip. He felt the warm wet of Castiel's tongue on his skin and it took everything he had not to whimper. His fingers bunched in the fabric of Cas's shirt, causing it to ride up, letting him feel hot flesh. “Mmm, Cas.” 

Castiel licked a trail up Dean's neck and to his jaw, nipping at it just below his ear before taking his earlobe between his lips and sucking. “Dean,” he breathed, sending chills through Dean. He tangled his fingers into Dean's hair and tugged gently, pulling him into a deep kiss. Cas moved so his legs were on either side of Dean, straddling his hips. 

\- 

“Cas,” Dean gasped, burying his face in Castiel's shoulder. 

Castiel pulled back, fearful he'd hurt Dean in some way. “What? Are you alright?” He'd been too in the moment to remember that Dean was still recovering. What if he had hurt his arm, or his leg when he straddled him? 

“'m fine, baby,” Dean chuckled, mouthing at Cas's neck. “Do you want to go up to my bedroom?”

Castiel sighed in relief when Dean said he was alright, the relief quickly turning to anxiety at his offer. “eh..erm, uh...” he stuttered, picking at Dean's shirt hem again. 

Dean immediately pulled away, “Cas, we don't have to. I didn't mean to push you.” 

“No no!” Cas said quickly. “I want to... but, I'm just, I dunno, nervous. We've never..done anything before.” 

“Cas if you don't want to we don't have to. I'm not going to make you do something you're not ready for,” his voice was so concerned it made Castiel's heart melt. 

“Dean, I love you, y'know?” he said shyly. He paused a moment, bunching Dean's shirt in his hands slightly. “I want to.” 

“Are you sure, baby?” he asked softly in response. 

Cas looked at him adoringly, “I'm sure.” He climbed off of Dean's lap and took his boyfriend's hand in his own, helping him up. 

Dean pulled him into a sweet kiss before following him up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

Castiel turned toward Dean when they got into the bedroom, biting his bottom lip and looking up at Dean through his lashes. His eyes trailed to the sling supporting Dean's arm, fingers brushing the fabric. “May I?” 

Dean looked down at Castiel's fingers and nodded, helping him remove the sling carefully. Once his arm was free he wrapped both around Cas's waist and pulled him flush against his body, catching Cas's lips in the gentlest kiss Cas had ever experienced. “Mmm, been wantin' you, baby,” he hummed as he squeezed Cas's hips gently and pressed their foreheads together. “Tell me if I'm going too fast, okay?” 

Cas only nodded as warm fingers dug into his hot flesh and wet lips pressed against his own dry ones. He felt the mattress cut into the backs of his knees and he let himself sink back onto the bed, pulling Dean down with him. He felt Dean's knee push his own apart and he let him, tilting his head back as Dean moved his lips to Cas's neck. “Oh, Dean,” he breathed, tangling his fingers in Dean's hair, his other hand bunching in Dean's shirt, causing it to ride up. 

Dean leaned up off of him and tugged his shirt off, biting his lip as he stared down at Cas's flushed face. “Damn, you're beautiful.” He licked his lips and leaned back down, brushing his lips against Castiel's jaw. 

Cas whimpered softly and pressed into the kiss. He felt Dean's hot fingers sliding up his shirt and he moaned as they brushed against his nipple, “Dean!” Dean pushed his shirt up and he allowed him to pull it over his head. His breath caught at the radiating heat from Dean's bare chest as the cool air in the bedroom bit at his arms. He pulled Dean down into a passion-filled kiss, forcing his tongue into Dean's mouth and moaning when Dean nipped at his lip. 

\- 

Dean couldn't help himself as he let his hand slide down Castiel's body and toward his crotch. He could feel how hard Cas already was for him and he moaned as his fingers brushed against the tight denim. 

“Dean!” Castiel gasped, dull nails digging into Dean's shoulders. “Oh, god!” his hips thrust up into Dean's hand, dying for friction. His breath was ragged and coming in gasps. “M-more...” 

Dean almost growled as Cas spoke. He applied a little more pressure experimentally before moving his hand up to work at the button of Cas's jeans. Once he got the zipper down he slipped his hand into his boyfriend's pants, moaning at the heat. “Cas,” he breathed, “so hard for me, baby.” He mouthed at Cas's neck as his boyfriend shuddered beneath him. 

“Oh god Dean,” Cas moaned. 

Dean palmed him through the soft fabric of his boxers, rutting his hips against Cas's leg. 

“Oh, Dean! T-take them off. Nnggh, take them off,” Castiel whimpered. 

“Baby, are you sure?” but Dean was already tugging Cas's jeans down over his hips. He kissed down Cas's chest and stomach until his got to the hem of his boxers. “Cas, you're so perfect.” He tossed the pants to the floor and kissed across Cas's hips, flicking his tongue across the sharp jut of his hipbones and letting his teeth scrape the sensitive flesh lightly. 

Cas tugged Dean's hair hard, hips bucking as he moaned. “Dean.” 

That was all he needed. He hooked his fingers into the waist of Cas's boxers and tugged them down his legs. His breath caught at the sight before him. Castiel, lying prone and naked on his bed, and begging for him. Before he could stop he was mouthing at Cas's erection and reveling the broken noises escaping through Cas's lips. 

Castiel rolled his hips up toward Dean, mewling beneath him. His voice was hoarse from arousal and Dean wasn't helping. “Oh my god!” 

Dean licked up the underside of Cas's cock and grinned to himself and he took the head into his mouth. “Mmm baby, you taste so good for me,” he growled just before sinking down and taking in as much of him as he could. 

Castiel let out a broken cry and threw his head back into the pillow, trying desperately to buck his hips. But Dean had thrown an arm across his hips, pinning him to the bed. 

Dean bobbed his head, flicking his tongue across the slit every time he came up. He wanted to make this good for Cas. He knew this was the most intimate Cas had ever been with anyone and dammit if he wasn't going to make it good. He sank down and and moaned, feeling Cas tense slightly. He was close. 

“Dean! Dean I'm gonna c-” his voice was broken by a gasp and a sound Dean could only describe as a cross between a whimper and a cry as Cas came undone. Hot come spilled down his throat and he drank it down, moaning at being able to make his boyfriend fall apart like that. 

He pulled off, squeezing Cas's thighs affectionately and licking his lips. Cas was a beautiful sight. Flushed from head to toe, panting and sweating, half hard dick on his hip and eyes closed still from the high of orgasm. 

Dean was still in his jeans, his dick hard as a rock and painfully trapped behind the denim. He tried to no avail to reposition himself so he wasn't so uncomfortable, but he knew it was hopeless. He crawled up beside Cas on the bed and brushed sweaty hair from Cas's forehead before pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“Dean,” Cas whispered hoarsely. “That was-” 

“Great,” Dean finished for him. “You're so beautiful, Cas.” 

Castiel opened his eyes and smiled weakly up at Dean, “it was amazing, Dean. You're amazing.” He rolled onto his side and buried his face in Dean's chest. Castiel looked up at him, confusion on his face. “Dean, you're still wearing your jeans..” 

Dean swallowed uncomfortably and moved away from Cas, “its fine, Cas. It was good for you and that's all that matters.” 

“Dean, you didn't even take your pants off,” Cas sounded hurt and Dean knew it was because he probably thought Dean wasn't turned on by him. Castiel pushed himself into a seated position and leaned back on the headboard. “Why?” 

“Cas, I wanted it to be good for you,” Dean tried to explain, but the hurt didn't leave Cas's expression. “I didn't want to pressure you into doing anything you weren't ready for. Don't even, for a second, think that I wasn't turned on as fuck by you.” 

Castiel looked down at his hands, “then why didn't you get off? Or at least try...” 

“I wanted to focus on you, Cas. I know this was your first time and I wanted it to be special. Cas don't look at me like that...” 

Despite just having come, Cas looked like a sad puppy. Dean could tell he was hurt. “Dean, it should have been good for you, too. 

“Well, what do you want me to do, Cas? I didn't get off, so what? You said it yourself, it was amazing for you and that's all I care about.” 

Castiel looked up at him, darkened blue eyes meeting forest-green. “Let me.” 

Dean was taken aback, “w-what?” 

“Let me take care of you, Dean. Can I?” Castiel sounded nervous, but he had an air of confidence around him that was unmistakeable. 

Dean studied his face for a moment before nodding, biting his lip. He watched as Castiel straddled his hips and worked his pants open. Dean lifted his hips to let Cas remove his pants and underwear, not expecting it to be one fluid move that was, in all honesty, sexy as hell. ****He heard the flutter of clothing hitting the floor and then his vision whited out as hot fingers wrapped around his length without warning. “Cas!” his hips bucked and his fists bunched in the sheets. He hadn't realized just how painful his erection had become until there was friction. ****It felt so good it almost hurt. Cas knew just how to work him so he was a whimpering, begging mess on the bed. He felt the sweat trickle down the back of his neck as he panted, rutting his hips to get as much friction as he could. Before it had been a full three minutes, Dean was coming all over Cas's hand and his own stomach. Heat rolled off of him as he came down from the high, feeling Cas wipe some sort of fabric across his abdomen before curling against him and pulling the blankets over them. ** ******

“Happy Valentine's Day, Dean,” Castiel whispered before Dean drifted off into a deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh thank you for reading!!!!  
> Okay, so this was my first attempt ever at writing smut. So feedback would be greatly appreciated. Also, any advice to make it better would be great! :)  
> I hope you liked it.


	18. Trauma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Graphic depictions of violence.
> 
> I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. 
> 
> In advance.

**He burst through the front door, frantic to find him.**

 

**Dean had sounded terrified on the phone and Castiel wasn't able to decipher anything but the fact that John Winchester was back for the first time in almost a month.**

 

**He looked around the living room, noting the overturned chair and the broken coffee table. Something horrible had happened here.**

 

**“ _Dean!_ ” Castiel called, praying Dean was at least here. **

 

**He heard a low noise coming from the kitchen and his heart dropped. He made a beeline for the kitchen and sank to his knees when he flipped the light switch.**

 

**Dean lay in a heap on the kitchen floor right in front of the the sink. Blood smeared the edge of the sink and left a trail from where Dean had collapsed, a small pool extending from somewhere around his head.**

 

* * *

 

Dean sat on the couch watching TV. He had opted out of going to Cas's for the evening or inviting Cas over for who knows why. He was flipping through the channels when he heard the doorknob jar.

 

He pushed off of the couch cautiously, standing in fighting position in preparation for an intruder. “Who is it?” he called through the door. He was grateful Sammy was at some study thing for school in case shit happened/

 

What he wasn't expecting, however, was his father's gruff voice. “ _Dammit,_ Dean! 'ts me, lemme in!”

 

The tension didn't leave Dean as he opened the door carefully. “Hey, dad. Uh, what are you doing here?”

 

John Winchester shoved past his oldest son and stumbled into the living room. “Where is he? Where's the li'l fucker who ruined my boy?” Dean smelled the liquor on his father's breath.

 

“Dad, what the fuck are you talking about?” Dean moved in front of his father, trying to calm him down.

 

It didn't work.

 

“ _You_ know damn well,” he hiccuped, “what 'm _talkin'_ 'bout! Where's the asshole who ruined you!” He shoved Dean. Hard.

 

Dean fell into the coffee table, busting it in half sending blinding pain through his back and shoulder. “Dad! I don't know what you're _talking_ about!” he screamed after he caught his breath and regained his feet.

 

“Stop _lyin'_ to me, boy!” John bunched his fists in the collar of Dean's shirt, jerking him forward. “The boy you been _suckin' face_ with outside Harvelle's!”

 

That was it. John knew. Dean had never told John about anything personal. He hadn't even expected the need to since John wasn't in his life much anyway.

 

He pushed at his father's hands to no avail. Dean hadn't seen John this enraged since he was fourteen and Sammy had run away under his care. He'd taken a beating that night, sure, but that was nothing compared to what John could do when he was this drunk.

 

“ _Answer_ me!” John growled, shaking Dean out of his thoughts. “Where the _fuck_ is 'e? I'm gonna kill 'im!” He shoved Dean again, sending him into the recliner and sending both the boy and the furniture toppling before moving toward the other end of the house.

 

Dean heard loud shouting and slamming as his father searched the house for Cas. He would never let John lay a hand on Castiel. He'd die first. “Dad!” Dean screamed, getting to his feet and moving toward the slamming. He found his father in his bedroom, looking through Dean's closet. “ _First off!_ You have _no fucking right_ to tell me who I can and can't date! _Second!_ You can't just be gone for a fucking _month_ and then get here and offer no explanation as to where you've been and then try and _dictate_ my life!” 

 

Dean didn't get to finish what he was saying because his mouth was suddenly filled with blinding pain and the taste of copper. He fell back against the wall in a heap, glancing up in time to see his father reach down.

 

John grabbed a handful of Dean's short hair and pulled him up to his feet before shoving him into the wall again. “Don't you _ever_ talk to me like that!” John spat in his face, slamming his fist into Dean's stomach.

 

Dean didn't remember much after that. John's homophobic slurs between blows. The taste of blood. And just red.

 

At some point they'd ended up in the kitchen, probably after Dean kicked his father away and crawled down the hall, and John was screaming something about “no son of mine is gonna be a fuckin' _cocksucker!_ ”

 

Dean felt another blow to his stomach as he lay on the floor, pinned to the counter. He vaguely realized that his father was kicking him while he screamed.

 

John eventually got tired and sat down at the kitchen table, facing Dean's battered and bloodied body. His head was in his hands and he was grumbling something Dean couldn't quite understand.

 

He blacked out at some point and when he came to, John was gone and the house was dark. Dean looked around, vision impaired by his swollen-shut right eye. He pulled himself up painfully so he could at least clean some of the blood from his face.

 

After splashing some cold water on his face, legs trembling with the strain of standing, he caught a glimpse of his cell phone, conveniently charging beside the bread box.

 

He saw he had a text from Sam and clicked **OPEN.**

 

_**Hey, I'm going to Gabe's tonight. Didn't think you'd mind.** _

 

Dean was so grateful Sam hadn't walked in to witness what their father had done. John probably would have turned on his youngest son if that had been the case. He shuddered at the thought.

 

Before he was even thinking, he punched **CALL** on Cas's name and carefully pressed the phone to his ear. After a few rings, Castiel's rough voice broke through the line.

 

_“Dean?”_ it sounded like he'd been asleep. Shit, what time was it?

 

“Cas-” god his voice. He sounded like he'd been hit by a fucking truck. “Cas, my dad came home,” he choked through the words, sliding down to the floor.

 

There was a rustling on the other line, _“Dean what happened?”_

 

“Cas, **I need you,** ” Dean slurred, vision going black.

 

_“Dean, stay on the line with me!”_

 

Dean's head lolled onto the floor and he slumped, phone clattering on the linoleum.

 

* * *

 

Castiel heard the phone go dead as he opened the front door. He shouted into the line in vain before shoving his phone into his pocket and sprinting toward Dean's house.

 

* * *

 

**He burst through the front door, frantic to find him.**

 

**Dean had sounded terrified on the phone and Castiel wasn't able to decipher anything but the fact that John Winchester was back for the first time in almost a month.**

 

**He looked around the living room, noting the overturned chair and the broken coffee table. Something horrible had happened here.**

 

**“ _Dean!_ ” Castiel called, praying Dean was at least here. **

 

**He heard a low noise coming from the kitchen and his heart dropped. He made a beeline for the kitchen and sank to his knees when he flipped the light switch.**

 

**Dean lay in a heap on the kitchen floor right in front of the the sink. Blood smeared the edge of the sink and left a trail from where Dean had collapsed, a small pool extending from somewhere around his head.**

 

* * *

 

“Oh god, Dean,” Castiel said, voice barely a whisper. He couldn't bring himself to move forward. Couldn't bare the sight of his boyfriend covered in blood, face swollen almost beyond recognition.

 

Dean must have heard him because right then he opened one eye to look at Cas, relief flickering across his face for an instant.

 

Castiel was beside him then, gingerly brushing his swollen cheekbone. “Dean, what happened?” he asked softly, sitting cross-legged and pulling Dean carefully into his lap.

 

Dean groaned in resistance, mumbling something about blood and ruined pants but Castiel just brushed it off as he cradled Dean's head gently. “Baby, what did your father do?”

 

“He knows, Cas,” Dean slurred. His eye had drifted shut and Castiel couldn't tell if it was sweat or blood that shone on his face.

 

“He knows about what, Dean?” his tone was soothing, but he was utterly terrified. It looked like Dean had lost a lot of blood and Castiel couldn't even see all the damage. He needed to get him out of here.

 

“Us,” Dean said abruptly. “He knows about us, Cas. And damn, was he unsupportive,” he tried to chuckle, it turning into a groan and a wet cough.

 

“Dean- you need a doctor.”

 

Dean shook his head, face screwing up in pain. “No! If they find out, they'll t-take Sammy away. They'll send me away. Separate us.” his voice was choked.

 

Even after all this, Dean was still thinking of his brother. “Dean please! You could have internal bleeding! You could die, Dean. And then what would Sam do? What would happen to him then?”

 

A tear streaked down the side of Dean's face and he sniffed. “Cas, **I'm scared.** ”

 

It felt like a knife cutting through his heart. Those words. Coming from the lips of the strongest man Castiel knew. He didn't know what to say. He brushed his fingers lightly through Dean's hair and reached for his phone. “I'm going to call an ambulance. You're going to be fine, Dean.”

 

Dean nodded slightly, head feeling heavier in Castiel's lap as he dialed 911.

 

* * *

 

He was here again. In the hallway of the hospital, knees folded up to his chest as he sat on the floor.

 

Only this time he wasn't alone. Sam was on his right sitting in the same position. Gabriel had just gone to find a bathroom.

 

“He's going to be okay,” Castiel kept muttering, more to himself than the boy next to him.

 

They'd been here for what seemed like hours. The only thing anyone would tell them was that Dean was in surgery. They had to stop the bleeding.

 

He heard Sam sniffle beside him and he threw his arm over the boy's shoulders, pulling him against him. “Sam, he's gonna be fine,” he murmured into Sam's shaggy hair.

 

“I know,” Sam said hoarsely, nodding. “Dean's tough. He can get through this...”

 

Sam didn't sound convinced but Castiel wasn't either. Gabe came back and sat down next to Sam.

 

"I asked a nurse what was happening...” he said quietly, looking down at his lap.

 

Sam didn't move but Castiel looked over at his brother. “What'd they say?”

 

“They said something about complications. And that its gonna take longer than they thought.” Gabriel choked on the words. He may not have been expressly close with Dean himself, but he was still one of the most influential people in the young boy's life.

 

Castiel tugged on Gabe's shirt and the boy slumped against Sam, Castiel's hand on the back of his neck. “He's gonna be fine.” Castiel was starting to doubt himself.

 

* * *

 

A few hours later there was still minimal news on Dean's condition and the two younger boys were asleep on chairs in the waiting room. Castiel had insisted they get some rest, they were both exhausted, while he waited up in case there was news on Dean.

 

He sat cross-legged, in probably the most uncomfortable chair on the planet, clutching a paper cup filled to the brim with steaming coffee. It was his fourth...or fifth cup of the night- well, morning.

 

Castiel checked the time on the clock beside the TV on the wall. 4:25. It was just after 11:30 when Dean had called him.

 

He had to find something out. Castiel stood up, wincing at the stiffness in his legs, and walked out to the nurses' station down the hall. What was that nurse's name? The one from when Dean got injured in football? Brandon? No, more unusual. Balthazar!

 

The name came to him as he spotted the blonde man behind the counter. “Excuse me,” god his voice was a wreck. “Could you tell me anything about Dean Winchester?”

 

The young man looked up from the file in his hands. He looked like he hadn't slept in days and his brows knitted in confusion. “Winchester...one moment,” he put the file into an organizer and replaced it in his hands with another. “Right! Winchester. Dean. Admitted just before midnight with severe trauma. Surgery began almost four and a half hours ago.” The man's voice trailed off as he looked up from the file.

 

Castiel clutched his paper cup, waiting for him to finish. Balthazar's face was unreadable and that terrified him.

 

“He was removed from surgery about ten minutes ago,” he spoke softly.

 

_Removed?_ Castiel thought. _What does that mean?_ He must have thought aloud, because Balthazar had moved around the counter and was next to him.

 

A hand was placed on his shoulder. “There were complications early on. He had severe internal bleeding, as I'm sure you know. They got it stopped, but he had already lost so much blood.”

 

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't this guy just get to the fucking _point_? Castiel slumped against the counter as his head spun. “W-what are you saying?”

 

“Dean is in a coma. The doctors got him fixed up the best they could. The abdominal bleeding was difficult, but that will be fine. However, Dean suffered immense blunt force trauma to the head. He's in a medically induced coma and they aren't sure if he will make it back to us.”

 

A sob racked through Castiel's body and he sank to the floor. _No. No, this can't be happening. We were so happy. Just getting started._ He clutched at his chest frantically, trying to catch his breath.

 

_Not my Dean._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I did this. I just felt as though I should bring John back but there weren't any good scenarios under which he would come back...
> 
> I'm sorry. I know what I've done...


End file.
